Lead You Home
by DimpleCurlAeternaGirl
Summary: Jointly written with Tangler. Ten-year-old Aaron Austen has only one Christmas wish when he heads to the mountains for a family holiday. Lost Christmas, Canon-Divergent, Multi-Chapter. UPDATED ON 3-2-20!
1. The Letter

_A/N: This is a jointly written, multi-chapter Christmas fiction with Tangler. Story suggested by Tangler. (Read her stories. They are wonderful!) Please follow the story to be notified when new chapters post. Chapter 2 should be up by next week. :) I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

 **December 17** **th** **, 2014**

Aaron Austen loved fifth grade. He loved his teacher, Mrs. Mathison, and he loved that the week before Christmas was a short one. They got to watch movies and make tree ornaments instead of learning fractions and grammar.

"So, what are you getting your parents for Christmas?" Emily Larson asked, her voice full of enthusiasm. The candy cane she held between her teeth muffled her words as she spoke. It left a red, sticky smear across the corners of her lips.

"I bought my mom a big bottle of perfume. Dad helped me pick it out. It smells weird, but he says she'll love it. And I'm going with mom to get him a new fishing rod this afternoon," Ryan answered as he flicked a wadded-up paper ball at his friend, Simon.

Simon was a freckled boy with red, curly hair. He pushed the paper ball aside gingerly with the edge of a brown pipe cleaner he was using to make reindeer antlers. "I'm making my gifts. I've been working on mom's birdhouse all week and I'm almost done gluing together dad's model F-18 fighter jet. It looks real!" He put his hands together as if he was holding a pair of machine guns and made shooting noises.

"What about you Aaron?" Emily asked, rolling her eyes at Simon.

The fair-haired boy glanced at his hands. He pretended to take interest in gluing his popsicle stick reindeer he had previously abandoned. His best friend, Spencer, raised an eyebrow when he accidentally attached the glittery pom-pom nose to where its tail should have been.

"Rudolph with your butt so bright, won't you guide my sleigh tonight?" Spencer teased in a sing-song fashion.

Emily stifled a giggle.

Spencer gave Aaron a sympathetic smile. "No idea, huh?"

The fifth grader threw his hands in the air and shrugged, his brows knitted in frustration. He slumped in his chair before speaking. "I don't know. I don't have a dad anymore and mom seems sad sometimes. I really want her Christmas gift to be special."

"You don't have a dad anymore? Did he die or something?" Ryan asked with raised eyebrows. Emily punched him in the shoulder, making him yelp and glare at her.

"You can't ask that. It's not nice," she chided and returned the look.

"No. It's okay." Aaron sighed, the corners of his lips turned down. "Jack wasn't exactly my dad. But he lived with us when I was little. I don't remember him much. He and mom got in a big fight and he moved out. It's just been mom and me ever since. And sometimes Grandpa Sam."

"Oh! A divorce! Like Ronnie's parents." Simon's eyes were wide at the revelation.

"Um. Yeah. I guess." Aaron's cheeks were flushed at the admission. "Jack still calls sometimes, but it makes mom cry." Aaron frowned again at the thought. He didn't like it when his mom was upset. He wanted to help but didn't know how.

"Oh," Emily sighed. "That's so sad. I bet she still loves him."

Aaron nodded curtly, avoiding eye contact. He went back to gluing his reindeer and did his best to ignore prying eyes that watched him expectantly. "What?" he grumbled. He felt like he was being examined under a microscope, like the algae in science class.

"Why don't you give him to your mom for Christmas?" Simon suggested. He just finished his reindeer and rubbed his hands together to get rid of dried glue.

Emily put her hand on Aaron's forearm. "That's so sweet. You said your mom still loves him. Oh, Aaron! You have too!"

All the boys except Aaron stuck their tongues out, much to Emily's dismay. She shot them each a drop-dead look.

"It sounds great. But how do I find him? I barely remember what he looks like. And I don't know if my mom wants to see him." Aaron doubted he could pull it off. He felt protective of his mom and didn't want to make things worse. But maybe, just maybe, it would help her.

Emily nodded, empathetically. "She could be nervous like when _somebody_ took forever to ask me share his bus seat." She glared at Ryan who raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"I had to work myself up to it." Ryan grumbled as he puffed out his chest. He wasn't going to admit he was scared she'd say "No."

"Maybe Santa?" Simon suggested quietly, ignoring their banter. The three other children turned to face him.

Ryan's face was filled with disbelief. "Oh, come on! You don't believe in Santa like some fourth-grader. Do you?"

Simon shrugged. "He brought me new Xbox last year and gave my brother a PS4."

"That was probably just your mom, dumbass," Ryan snorted and flicked another ball of paper at him. The name-calling earned him a warning look from Emily.

Simon flicked the paper ball. It launched it into the air towards the back of Mrs. Mathison's head. They all let out a collective sigh of relief when it missed her. She was busy talking to a parent volunteer and didn't notice the flying object.

"I think it's a wonderful idea Aaron!" Emily smiled encouragingly. "I don't know if Santa is real or not, but it wouldn't hurt to try."

Aaron agreed. No self-respecting fifth-grader would actually come out and state they still believed in Santa Clause. But if there was any chance… "You think he'd get Jack for my mom?" Hope kindled in his large, blue eyes.

Emily shrugged and asked Spencer to fetch a sheet of white paper from the art cupboard. "You'll never know unless you write him and ask. I bet if you do, you'll have the best Christmas gift ever!"

Aaron mulled this over in his mind. "Yeah," he finally smiled, revealing the gap where his new canine tooth was starting to grow in. "I guess I would."

Simon agreed. "It's gonna work. Now, how should we start? 'Dear Santa...'" He scrawled in red crayon.

"No! Wait!" Emily snatched the paper from him. "Aaron _really_ needs this. You have to address him properly." She flipped over the paper and proceeded to write, "'Dear, Mr. Santa Claus…'"

"Show off," Simon muttered, rolling his eyes. She gave him dangerous look. "Fine!" He backed off with a huff. "'Dear _Mr_. Santa Claus.'"

"'I have been a very good boy all year long,'" she continued.

"Except for the time he emptied his jello cup in Spencer's shoes." Ryan laughed, eager to point out something "naughty."

Aaron winced. "That's because I was mad. He put a wad of gum in my hair."

Spencer grinned at the memory of Aaron's clumped hair.

"It'll be okay. Just say you're sorry." Emily passed the paper to Aaron who preferred to write with his ballpoint pen. "'Dear Mr. Santa Claus, I have been a very good boy all year long except the time I put lime jello in Spencer's shoes. I know it was wrong and I am really sorry.'" Emily dictated slowly as Aaron scribbled the words down in his spidery scrawl.

They spent the rest of the afternoon figuring out which words would work best to convince Santa that Aaron needed his help badly. Spencer, who was over the jello incident, went as far as consulting a thesaurus he borrowed from Mrs. Mathison's desk. The rest of the class had settled in to watch _Elf_.

"Alright." Emily gave a little nod when Aaron had finished writing. "Let's see what we've got here." The three boys scooted in close to listen as she read it out loud, but not loud enough to let their classmates know what they were doing.

" _Dear Mr. Santa Claus,_

 _I have been a very good boy all year long except for the time when I put lime jello in Spencer's shoes. I know it was wrong and I am really sorry._

 _I learned it's better to give than receive. This is why I was wondering if you would help me cheer up two people this holiday season._

 _I think the best gift my mom could ever get is for her to fall in love with Jack again. I know you usually don't give people as Christmas gifts, but will you make an exception? She's the best mom in the world. I love her and won't ask you for anything special for me. I think he'll make my mom happier than any gift I can give her. Please do this for her! I promise to leave cookies and milk for you and carrots for the reindeer on Christmas Eve._

 _Thank you again and have a_ _very_ _Merry Christmas with Mrs. Claus and the elves!_

 _Love, Aaron"_

"All you have to do is mail it." Emily handed the letter back to Aaron.

He folded it twice and tucked it into his backpack. "If he does exist, I hope he gets it in time."

"You still have a week to go. You could always make your mom something just in case it doesn't get there or Santa is too busy," Simon suggested.

"Yeah," Aaron sighed again. "I guess."

He watched Emily, Ryan and Simon pack up their things and return to their own desks.

"Explain to me again why it's not a crime for Mrs. Mathison to give us homework for Christmas?" Spencer whined, changing the subject. His brown hair hung in a shaggy halo around his face. He scowled at his copy of _Elementary Mathematics Grade 5_ _._ The book sat on his desk between a black binder filled with loose leaf paper and his Spiderman pencil case. "Christmas is a time for Xbox and _Call of Duty_ , not algebra." Spencer picked up the offensive object in utter disgust, as if it were a live snake. He dropped it in his backpack before it could bite him.

Aaron eyed his best friend with amusement. "You could just finish it tonight. Then it would be done and you won't have to think about it for the rest of vacation."

Spencer made a gagging sound. "Homework?" he gasped dramatically. "On _the_ _first_ night of the holidays? Are you sick or something?"

Aaron scowled when Spencer pressed the back of his hand against his forehead to check his temperature. It was sticky and smelled like tuna. He shook himself free, wiped his blonde bangs with the sleeve of his shirt and turned to his own math book. He slid it into his backpack as the bell rang.

"Okay, class. I know it's been a fun afternoon, but everyone needs to work on the practice problems for 'Unit Five Comparing Fractions.' There will be a test when you get back. Have a safe and happy holiday!" Mrs. Mathison shouted over the raised voices of excited fifth-graders as they filed out of the room. She started to say something else, but stopped. The Santa hat she was wearing threatened to fall off her head. She raised her hands to steady it and gave up with a sigh when she realized that her classroom was already three-quarters empty.

"Have a good one Mrs. M." Aaron smiled at her, waving before he pulled his coat from his cubby.

Spencer followed him out of the classroom.

"You're not really gonna doing your homework tonight?" He whispered when he was out of Mrs. Mathison's earshot. He didn't need to worry. The school yard was practically buzzing with the exuberant shouts of students turned loose upon the world for Christmas holidays.

"Nah." Aaron shrugged. He had to raise his voice. "I did the chapter last week."

"Without being told?" Spencer's tone was incredulous. "There's something seriously wrong with you, Aaron." He teased his friend while shaking his head in an attempt to appear serious.

"We're going to visit my Grandpa Sam in Canada." Aaron shouldered his backpack. "Normally, he comes to visit us, but mom wanted to have Christmas at his cabin this year."

Spencer's eyes widened in amazement. "You're going to the North Pole for Christmas?"

Aaron smirked. "Yup."

He paused and scratched his chin, considering the question. "Well … I don't think we're going _that_ far north. But grandpa says there's snow and everything. He was a Sergeant Major in the Army and knows lots of cool survival stuff. He said we can cut down our own Christmas tree from the forest."

"That's so cool. My dad got ours from Wal-Mart," Spencer was jealous but didn't begrudge his friend. "Does this mean you can't come play _Call of Duty_ with me?" He was disappointed at the thought.

Aaron shrugged. "We're not leaving until Friday."

Spencer's lips curled up, excited at the prospect of gaming together. "Awesome! Let's ask our moms if you can sleep over tonight."

* * *

By the time Thursday rolled around, Aaron was in a panic. In early December he had started a calendar on the fridge. He crossed off the days until Friday, December 19th with a bright, green Sharpie. There was a picture of a little cabin and several crookedly-drawn stick people decorating the block. Just one more day!

That afternoon, Kate insisted on shopping. Aaron needed a new winter jacket. His current one was a couple of years old and didn't accommodate his recent growth spurt. They drove to The Shops on Lake Avenue after Aaron spent the morning sleeping in late and playing video games. He was energized and ready to go, the letter temporarily forgotten.

Kate, on the other hand, had trouble matching Aaron's excitement as she chased him around Macy's department store. He was buzzing with excitement over the trip. Her throat felt prickly and she found herself pressing her fingers firmly against her temples, rubbing slow circles to ward away the headache threatening to build.

Regardless, she was determined to get him whatever he needed and put on a pleasant face for him. It wasn't hard. She never realized how much she would love being a mom until she volunteered to raise Aaron as her own. That was almost ten years ago. Now she couldn't imagine life without him.

They eventually selected a puffy, black North Face coat with a fringe of fake fur around the hood. Aaron grinned proudly as he shrugged into it, examining the secret, vertical pocket on the interior.

"It might be too warm for here," Kate explained. "But you'll need this for the mountains."

"How cold does it get?"

"I don't know, Goober. I've never been," she admitted.

Aaron cocked his head to the side. "Grandpa said you guys used to go camping all the time."

Kate gave him a wistful smile while running her fingers lightly over his hair. A few strands stood up from static electricity. "We did. He traveled a lot when I was your age. He was stationed at Fort Lewis in Washington state for a while. We hiked in the woods for hours. Your grandpa taught me a lot."

Kate glanced away from him. There was something flickering in her features Aaron couldn't quite read. He couldn't decide if it was regret or if she was wishing for something.

She remembered a similar conversation with Jack. It was when they were tracking Claire, Charlie and Aaron before he was born on that godforsaken island. It seemed like yesterday. She saw her son's rapt expression and pushed down the feeling of loss that threatened to surface. She resumed talking.

"One day we spent eight hours tracking deer." Her expression brightened again, confusing Aaron. "Being in the woods … it was like grandpa's religion. The cabin we're going to was his dad's, your great-grandpa. He's been fixing it up for months now. I've never been there with him so it will be new for me too."

Aaron nodded, hoping grandpa would teach him some stuff too. "Think he'll show me how to track deer?" He looked up at her with anticipation, his eyes shining.

Kate beamed at her little man. "I'm sure he will. You're going to love it."

Two hours later, Kate stood in line at the checkout musing. She wondered how shopping for a new jacket turned into winter boots, mittens, a hat, scarf, telescopic fishing rod, compass, several maps of Alberta and a cold weather sleeping bag. She drew the line at the Swiss Army knife Aaron pointed it out in one of many glass cases. She issued a firm "No."

"But how will we kill the deer?" Aaron whined slightly, worry apparent in his voice.

She fixed him with a slightly amused look. "Grandpa will teach you how to _track_ deer, _not_ hunt them. He has everything we need at the cabin."

Aaron forgot about it by the time they had reached the car and practically skipped, bursting with excitement at the adventure ahead.

He couldn't stop grinning as he played with his new compass. It appeared old-fashioned with a silver chain and casings. Just like the ones in the explorer books he loved reading. He watched the tiny needle swing when the car rushed past houses and street signs as they drove to their home in Hollywood Hills.

"This is so cool." Aaron's face was glowing. Kate couldn't help but smile back. But she had trouble shaking a feeling of unease forming in her stomach. She started to have second thoughts about taking Aaron on an airplane. What if something happened to the plane? What if there was an accident or he got lost in the woods? Aaron was too young. She didn't want him out in the wild. Not now. Not ever. He had no idea how hard she tried to protect him over the years. She would do anything to keep him safe.

"Hey, Mom?" Aaron started slowly, looking up from his compass. The expression on her face made him nervous.

"What did we forget?" She asked casually, catching his tone. She prayed he wasn't going to start up about the Swiss Army knife again.

"What do you want for Christmas?" he hedged timidly. Aaron thought of the woods in Canada. He realized, even though he had saved his allowance, there might not be a store nearby Grandpa's if the letter to Santa didn't work. How could he buy her a present if they were in the mountains? He bit his bottom lip and wondered if there was _any_ store nearby so Grandpa Sam could take him to buy mom a gift. Just in case.

Kate considered his question thoughtfully. _For you to be safe and grow up happy and healthy, love._

"I already have everything I want," She told him, her voice soft and reassuring. But Aaron was skeptical. He nodded and left her to her thoughts while trying to work out in his head when he could sneak away to mail his letter.

* * *

Friday was here before Aaron knew it. The morning dawned cold and clear before making the slow transition to heavy rain showers by early afternoon.

Aaron was surprised how late Kate slept that morning. Normally, she was up and making them breakfast by seven a.m. But it was well past noon before she stumbled down the steps. She was bundled in a robe with circles under her eyes. Aaron didn't mind making his own breakfast. He was big now. He knew where the Frosted Flakes were and could manage popping a couple of Egos in the toaster.

Kate brewed coffee, but had no appetite. She sat on the couch, pulled her knees to her chest, and watched a Christmas movie with Aaron. By the time the rain started, she had recovered slightly. They ate a light supper of chicken nuggets and fries before re-checking their luggage. Kate made sure all of Aaron's presents were secretly packed away in her suitcase. It was important he had gifts to open on Christmas morning.

* * *

Kate folded her arms across her chest and shivered into her tailored, black coat as she ushered Aaron into the passenger seat of her Volvo. The boy took his time putting on his seatbelt, fiddling with his hands as he did so. His allowance money was crammed in his Captain America, Velcro wallet and tucked into his new coat's inner pocket.

Kate finished stacking the luggage in the trunk in the trunk, closed it and slipped into the vehicle. Large rain drops started to splash against the windshield and quickly turned into a downpour. She took one last look at the house, slightly distorted by sheets of water coursing down the windshield. She turned on the car and wipers. The exterior was void of Christmas decorations and festive lights, unlike the neighbors.

Aaron tilted his head, watching her. "You okay, Mom?"

"Yeah," Kate force a smile. "I was thinking how weird our house looks without decorations this year. I left a note to tell Santa where to find us."

Aaron fought back a grin and nodded seriously.

"What?" Kate wondered, puzzled.

"Nothing." Aaron shrugged, but started to squirm under her piercing gaze. She always knew if he was holding something back.

"Um, I think I'm getting too old for the whole Santa-thing, Mom." Aaron finally admitted.

Kate's pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. "Santa-thing?"

He nodded.

She sighed internally, but chose not to react. "Well, I'm not. We're putting out milk and cookies when we get to Grandpa's." She bit the side of her lip. Nostalgia swept through her. He was growing up too fast.

"Yeah. Sure, Mom." Aaron relaxed and hugged his backpack close to his chest. Suddenly, a wave of panic poured over him like a bucket of ice.

 _Santa-thing._

He remembered the letter tucked at the bottom of his backpack and gently fished it out while his mom pulled out of the driveway. She was too busy to notice what he was doing for a few moments.

 _I forgot to mail the letter!_

Kate caught him fiddling with something out of the corner of her eye. "What do you have there?"

"Nothing." He told a small lie and hoped Santa wouldn't notice ... If he was real. He silently wondering how he was going to get his letter to Santa in time. He stealthily shoved it into his coat pocket.

The rain was pouring down in sheets by the time they parked in the covered garage at Terminal Six at LAX airport. They were both glad to get out of the rain. Even if it meant lines of impatient travelers, anxious to visit friends and family for the holidays.

"Looks like we're going to have to wait." Kate wanted to groan after reading the monitor. There was a big "DELAYED" notification next to Air Canada Flight 259 to Calgary.

They checked their luggage, went through security, and sat in the connecting, black vinyl and metal chairs overlooking the runway at their gate. They were comfortable. Despite the crowds, everything was neat and clean. Even the blue, industrial carpet.

Kate hid her anxiety about taking Aaron on a plane by thumbing through a magazine. Aaron, on the other hand, was fascinated at the sight of planes taking off. One minute the huge, steel airbus was rolling down the runway, then, like magic, its nose lifted. It flew so high and fast he lost track of it. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of going on one, but he didn't want Spencer or the other kids in class to think he was a baby.

He would put on a brave face and face it the way Mom taught him to. Mom told him how when he was little and convinced a seven-headed monster lived in the attic above him. "Just count to five. Give your fear only five seconds. That's all. Then it will go away." She was right. He did the same thing during thunderstorms in the winter. He hated thunder and lightning. But it wasn't scary after counting to five. Hopefully it would work on the plane.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and quickly forgot about planes and counting when he realized the letter was gone. His jaw tightened. He checked his backpack just to make sure he didn't put it back inside. It was gone.

His heart started to beat fast. Now his mom wouldn't have a Christmas gift!

Aaron dropped to his knees and looked under the row of seats to no avail. He checked his jean pockets. It wasn't there either.

He would have to retrace his steps. He looked at his Mom. Her head was down as she read an article in _National Geographic._ She already warned him not to wander off alone. But if he didn't find his letter, Santa would never get it in time!

Aaron slowly found his way back to the security check point, zipping between the passengers headed in the opposite direction towards their gates. He searched the floor, squinting under the reflection of the florescent lights on the tiled floor. He wandered into another terminal. He went around the corner and stared at a large corridor with several shops and a Christmas display in the center. Christmas trees, decorations and big snowmen holding candy canes taller than him twinkled merrily, surrounded by fake snow on the floor.

He froze. He never came this way.

His face twisted into a frown, hit with the reality he was lost. His Mom was going to worry. They would miss their flight. And they would never get to see Grandpa Sam. He ruined their Christmas. Aaron squeezed his eyes shut briefly, fighting tears and began to rush blindly in the direction he was facing.

Suddenly, he ran into something. The impact was hard enough to cause Aaron to fall backwards. He landed on his bottom with a grunt. His hands smacked the cold tile and legs were splayed out in front of him.

"I'm sorry! I didn't see you! I'm lost and…" He frantically began to apologize to the knees of the person he ran into. Warm tears ran down his cheeks.

"Easy there, kiddo. It's alright. This is a big place. It's easy to get lost." The man he ran into was wearing a nice suit. The kind Spencer's dad wore to work. He crouched down until he was eye level with a look of concern. Aaron blinked, staring at the man's white sneakers and the folded scrap of paper underneath.

"My letter!" He cried out in relief.

The man picked it up and examined the paper in his hands. "May I?"

Aaron nodded his breath hitching as he squared his shoulders.

"Hmmm … This sounds very important, Aaron." He extended a hand to help the boy up.

The boy paused. "How did you know my name? Oh, yeah! My letter."

The man offered a small smile and ran a hand over his grey hair before re-reading the child's messy script.

"I'm never gonna get it to Santa in time! And Mom's gonna be mad because I wandered off." Aaron wiped his eyes with the back of his coat sleeve.

"We can't let that happen. We better get you back then." The man voice and cadence sounded familiar, but Aaron didn't know why.

"What's your name?" Aaron's sorrow quickly turned into curiosity. If the man knew _his_ name, it was only fair that he shared his. Besides, his mom taught him not to go anywhere with strangers.

The man hesitated for a moment before responding, a small smile on his lips as his blue eyes lit up. "I'm Christian." He visually scanned the area. "Do you remember where you were before you wandered off?"

The boy tilted his head as he thought. "Watching planes take off at a big window."

Christian tugged as his collar. "That sounds like every gate in this airport, kiddo." He raised an eyebrow. "Do you remember where you and your mother were headed?"

"Calgary to visit my grandpa. But the letter … I have to mail it!" Aaron began to feel desperate. All he wanted was his mom to be happy.

Christian looked at down at him thoughtfully. "I can deliver it for you if you want. I'm heading to the North Pole anyway."

"You know Santa?" Aaron perked up, sniffed and wiped away the last wet tear trailing down his face. He barely noticed when they began to walk.

"We meet on occasion." Christian winked when Aaron looked up at him.

His round face full of hope. "Do you think he'll be able to help me?"

"You mean find this Jack fellow? Santa is a busy man with Christmas only a few days away."

Aaron was crestfallen. Christian stopped walking and faced Aaron before putting a hand on his small shoulder. He spoke in a serious tone. "It sounds like finding Jack is really important to you."

"It's for my mom," Aaron explained, his voice filled with sadness.

"Something tells me that old Saint Nick will be happy to help you. I know you've been a good boy. The best boys take care of their mothers, just like you." Christian ruffled the Aaron's hair, grinning at him fondly. The sorrow dissipated, replaced by a warm, happy feeling in Aaron's chest. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Is that your mom over there?" He nodded towards a seating area ahead. Kate was still engrossed in whatever she was reading, her fingers pressed against one temple. Aaron knew she would feel really guilty if she found out he wandered away and was lost.

"Thanks, Christian. I…" He turned back but the man was gone. He swiveled and looked in all directions. No trace of Christian or his letter.

"Wow," he said under his breath as he scampered over to his mom and crawled up on the seat next to her.

"Hey, Sweet Pea." She let the magazine drop in her lap, startled when he hugged her suddenly. His arms were wrapped tightly around her. Kate did the same, pulling him close to her chest as she rubbed his back.

"I thought you said you were getting too old for hugs?" She teased. He always wanted hugs, even at school drop off and pickup. That was before he was in 5th grade. She missed it, not realizing it would end someday.

Aaron shrugged. "Sometimes I'm not. Just don't tell anyone," he whispered in her ear before giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Alright. I won't." She chuckled and slid her arm around his back as he settled in his seat, letting him snuggle close until he drifted off to sleep against her shoulder.

* * *

"What do you mean I can't fly direct?" Dr. Jack Shephard tried to sound angry, but his tone was low and flat. The expression on his face was easily masked by the scraggly beard, uneven in both length and color. It hid the sallow flesh underneath that would have given him a pale, sickly appearance.

Cheryl, the ticket agent, unconsciously reacted to his outburst. She squared her shoulders and gazed back at him, her eyes hard and voice firm. "I'm sorry, sir. All the direct flights are overbooked."

Jack's nostrils flared in frustration. He slammed his Oceanic Gold Pass on top of the gate counter and tapped it. His voice was low and terse. "Do you have _any_ idea who I am? _What I went through_ to get this?" Intensity and pain surfaced and was reflected in his tired, brown eyes.

Cheryl glanced down at the pass and shook her head, not knowing the answers.

"This means I can fly wherever I want, whenever I want." Lately, he tended to have the muffled, sloppy demeanor of a man who was never quite drunk enough. But his determination made his speech crisper.

Cheryl did her best to be patient. "Sir, it's the holiday season. The flights have been booked solid for weeks." She waited for the computer screen in front of her to refresh. "We can't bump our paying customers. The best I can do for tonight is put you on one of our Star Alliance partners. You can fly from L.A. to Calgary, Calgary to Vancouver with Air Canada, then fly Oceanic's Saturday red-eye flight from Vancouver direct to Fiji."

Jack's sunken eyes watched her with contempt as she printed out multiple boarding passes, one for each flight.

"You'll be there in plenty of time for Christmas." She watched as he shoved the tickets into his jeans pocket with cold indifference.

He gave her a pointed stare. "Lucky me." His hostility evaporated into gloom. He turned his back and walked with a slow gait towards the security checkpoint line.

Jack flew every Friday night for the past seven years with only a few exceptions. It was easy now since he lost his job at St. Sebastian's a few years ago. He had the Oceanic settlement money to fall back on and a generous inheritance from his father.

If he hit a layover somewhere, it didn't fucking matter. He would find the nearest bar and wait it out. It wasn't like he had to be anywhere and it was hard for him to sleep. Insomnia plagued him. He didn't mind. It was far better than the nightmares filling his dreams when he finally managed to sleep.

Over the years, Jack had become skilled at appearing as if he was still functioning normally. He managed to dress himself in dark jeans and a rumpled dress shirt while carrying his coat and a briefcase. Most of the security agents knew him by name and didn't bat an eyelash when he was screened. Nobody recognized him anymore as an Oceanic-6 member. They assumed he was a businessman who traveled frequently.

Inside the terminal washroom, Jack splashed cold water on his face, intentionally avoiding looking at his reflection in the mirror. His glum expression was hidden behind the mess of dark facial hair across his chin. He rubbed the beard, memorizing the wiry hairs still damp with a wash of cheap airport scotch that had caught on his lips. The taste lingered deep in his throat, following a slight burning sensation that left him pleasantly on edge. He splashed the whiskers around his mouth to wash away the scotch. It was easier when he was inebriated. The beard was nothing more than a stout growth of facial hair. But at that moment, he was sober enough to admit he was hiding behind it.

He glanced around. Surprisingly, for the amount of people in the terminal, there was nobody in the stalls. He put his hand in his pocket and palmed a pill bottle, bringing the hard plastic to his lips. A few of the tablets landed in his mouth and started to dissolve on his tongue. They left a bitter taste. He turned on the tap and swallowed a handful of water to chase the damn things down.

When Jack was finished, he wiped his face and shook his head. There were muffled voices in the terminal resembling whispers that he could almost discern.

His mind drifted. He thought of his father, something he rarely did anymore when sober. The pills and alcohol buried him into the recesses of his mind. His father's image, his dusty cynicism, and his drinking all played back in his mind's eye. Like a black and white movie that made him shudder. He finally looked into the mirror while clutching each side of the sink with his hands. But it wasn't just his own reflection staring back at him. It was his father's too.

"You were always too busy trying to be a hero, Jack. You didn't have luck with the women in your life, chasing the impossible. And you sure as hell aren't going to with _that_ on your face." A deep voice spoke clearly with just the faintest hint of amusement in its tone. Jack felt a chill go down his spine. This was more than a hallucination.

Jack looked over his shoulder with a start. He blew out a sharp breath, his heart hammering. His father's lanky body sat on the edge of the counter with a small smirk, but his eyes were grave while assessing his son's appearance.

"Ghost of Christmas Past. At your service." Christian's smirk disappeared. He genuinely smiled, but his eyes held a tinge of sadness due to his son's condition.

Jack interpreted the look as his father being disappointed. Again. Christian looked exactly as Jack remembered. Dressed to the nines, as always, in a suit. But sporting a red Santa Claus tie Jack had never seen before and white tennis shoes. _Why does he have to wear those goddamn tennis shoes?_ The image made his mouth run dry.

"You … are not … real." Jack vocalized the same mantra he always did when his father appeared before him. His voice wavered. It never happened when he was half-sober and his father never spoke. This was definitely a new development.

 _Fuck!_ He needed more benzos.

"That's debatable." Christian took in a deep breath and exhaled before giving Jack a sharp look. "But it doesn't matter. Sorry to rush this along, son, but it's the holidays and I'm needed elsewhere. I need to talk with you." The elder doctor spoke gently, a trait that Jack didn't recall him possessing.

Jack gave a wary laugh. " _I_ _need_ another drink."

The gray-haired man looked at him, his brows coming together with concern. "No. You already drank more than enough for the both of us, Son."

Jack snorted derisively. "From the mouth of my own father, who wasn't sober a day in his life. Well, as long as I can remember. Good one, Dad." His eyes were beginning to burn with rage.

Christian saw Jack's visceral reaction. His neck muscles were strained and a flush crept up into the beard while his fists balled up.

Christian slid off of the granite counter to face his son.

"You're _not_ me, Jack." He said crisply. "You're _better_ than me."

Jack staggered backwards in an attempt to get away until his back hit the white, tiled wall. Christian took a step forward. He was cornered with one hand grasping the sink, the other clenched at his side. His knuckles were bone white under the tension.

"What are you?" Jack rasped, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

Christian watched him, his face full of sympathy. "A father trying to keep his son from making the same stupid mistakes I did in life."

Jack didn't exactly believe what he heard, but he didn't open his mouth in protest either. He tried to convince himself that he was drunker than he thought and this was vivid hallucination. Maybe if he closed his eyes, his dad would disappear.

"I'm not going to leave if you ignore me." Christian spoke as if reading Jack's thoughts. "You need make things right with your family."

That was enough. Jack didn't care anymore. "My family? _You're_ lecturing me about family? Are you listening to yourself? Do you know how ironic that is?" He shook his head and laughed bitterly. "You're wasting your breath. I'm a screw-up. A chip off the old block. One big, fucking screw-up."

"Is that why you lost your job, Jack?"

Jack's nostrils flared. He stared coldly at Christian.

"I guess that's why Sarah left you." The older man shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the counter. He stared at Jack without blinking.

"You were never home long enough to give a damn about what she wanted. You were too busy trying to fix everyone else to notice that it was _you_ who was broken. That's something you _can't_ fix, Jack. You couldn't do it on the island or let anyone close enough to help you. All of those lives were lost because _you screwed up_. And you certainly can't fix yourself now. Maybe you're right. You should stay as far away from Kate and Aaron as possible. They don't need a 'screw-up' like you in their lives." Christian deliberately provoked Jack. His words sliced through the scars as neatly as a scalpel exposing a festering wound deep inside.

Jack stared down at the tile, seething as he opened and closed his fists. His father vocalized the horrible guilt and feeling of failure he tried to blot out with substance abuse. His heart was racing. He wanted to hit his dad. To punch him so hard he would take it all back. To make him unsay the words. But he instinctually knew he'd be punching at thin air.

He turned and took a shot at one of the mirrors instead, causing it to crack, zig-zag lines fanning out from the point of impact. Jack instantly drew his fist to his chest.

"It hurts doesn't it?" Christian observed sadly. "Not just your hand, Jack. All of it." He stepped closer, his voice softening. "Jack … Son. Listen to me. You aren't meant to be alone." He put his hand on Jack's shoulder causing him to look up briefly into his father's eyes. It was real. He felt the pressure of the familiar hand.

Instead of scorn, he saw something else in his father's eyes. Compassion. He wanted to say he saw love but couldn't accept _anyone_ loving him at this point. He ruined everything.

Jack didn't reply and bowed his head in shame. His knuckles throbbed from the impact. He concentrated on the pain, cradling his fist against his chest. He didn't want his father to see him like this and was almost grateful he was dead. He certainly didn't want his ghost to see how badly he failed.

A mechanical-sounding announcement overhead distracted him.

"Air Canada Flight 259 to Vancouver with service to Calgary now boarding at Gate 44 Terminal 6."

"That's your flight, Son."

Jack blinked and glanced up while holding his bleeding fist. All he saw was an empty washroom.

* * *

Jack rushed to the gate to board. He cleaned up the shallow wound on his hand the best he could. He got in the First-Class Premiere line while fishing the boarding pass out of his pocket. That's when he heard it.

A woman was coughing. A young boy's voice responded. "Mom, are you okay?"

"Yes, Goober. I just need some water."

Jack's stopped breathing for a moment. He slowly looked up at the pair in front of him. One word escaped his lips involuntarily, softly as a prayer. "Kate."

She turned and looked up, her green eyes wide with shock. A tremor went through her body.

The blonde boy turned at the same time. He had to tilt his head back get a good look at the tall man who said his mom's name. Aaron's mouth popped open. Despite the beard and years that passed, he recognized the voice. It evoked a memory; a storybook being read. It flashed briefly in his mind.

The man's brown eyes, tired yet surprised, met his. They began to warm up after a few seconds and crinkled at the corners. The man recognized him too.

"Jack?"


	2. Up In The Air

_A/N: Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed. We really appreciate it and are both glad you are enjoying the story!_

 _Cheers,_

 _DimpleCurlAeternaGirl & Tangler_

* * *

"Jack?" Aaron's eyes and mouth were round as he spoke the man's name. He was shocked to see him. _It isn't even Christmas yet!_

Jack's gaze lingered on Aaron. He hadn't seen the boy in years and was amazed at how much he had grown _. Has it been that long?_ He was only a head shorter than Kate. Her petite hand rested on Aaron's shoulder. Jack traced her arm back to her beautiful face — it was etched in his memory forever. She had barely changed, despite the years, but seemed paler than he remembered. It made her freckles stand out. Grey shadows hung under her eyes giving her face a drawn appearance. He wasn't sure if her expression was from the shock of seeing him or fatigue.

"Hi, Jack." Kate's spoke with a low voice. He looked thinner. His features were hidden behind his unkempt beard with melancholy embedded in his eyes. The shirt under his coat was rumpled and stained in places. It was in stark contrast to his past, meticulous self.

She was hyper aware of Aaron, who stood between them and forced herself to stay calm for his sake. _How does he remember Jack?_

"Hey, Kate." Jack's heart constricted. It wasn't just the sound of her. It was seeing her in person. Her green eyes searched his but held no hostility. He felt awkward and turned to see his nephew again. Aaron was the spitting image of Claire but had Christian's eyes. _I should know_ , he mused wryly, _I just saw him in the bathroom_.

Aaron stuck his hand out politely. "I'm Aaron."

Jack chuckled slightly. He looked sad and broken beneath the smile he gave Aaron. "I know." He took the child's hand in his large one and shook it. "You have a good memory, kiddo."

Aaron's mouth popped open again. _Kiddo?_ Nobody had ever called him that except for Christian.

Kate watched the interaction carefully. She was unable to tell if Jack was sober or not. He usually wasn't when he called, but seemed steady. "Are you on this…?" She held up two boarding passes, including Aaron's.

"Yeah. I guess I am." Jack's eyes flitted to the ground briefly, too embarrassed to admit the reason he was flying.

An announcement interrupted them causing Kate to turn her head. "Air Canada Flight 259 first class passengers are now welcome to board." The line started to move.

She turned and gave Jack a sad smile. "It's nice to see you, Jack. We need to…" She turned and coughed into a few tissues. The strain brought a few tears to her eyes. "Sorry." She excused herself as she cleared her throat.

"No. It's okay." He held up his boarding pass in a gesture of understanding. "Nice to see you too. Both of you."

She gave him a sad smile. They turned away and walked over to the ticket agent who scanned their boarding passes. Jack stood, frozen for several moments.

"Hey, mister. Are you in line?" A man's brusque voice snapped him out of his reverie. Jack barely glanced back and gave a curt nod. He stepped forward as he watched Kate and Aaron walk down the gangway to the plane. Aaron glanced back a few times to stare at him. Kate's thin shoulders racked and neck bowed slightly as she coughed again.

Jack's brow furrowed, wishing he had said more as they slipped out of his sight.

* * *

Kate was grateful that the Oceanic Gold Passes were transferable to partner airlines. Aaron received a lifetime pass even though he was an infant. But this was his first time using it. It was nice to have more room with an energetic ten year-old. The extra comforts didn't quell her anxiety about taking him on a plane. Or running into Jack, of all people.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Jack. She looked at the man she loved but only found a ghost of his former self in the few moments they interacted. She wondered if _her_ Jack was buried somewhere underneath the layers of depression and self-imposed purgatory.

She still heard from him periodically, usually when he was drunk or high on pills. She didn't have the heart to block his phone number, even though it broke her heart each time to hear him ramble on about the island. He never asked about Aaron.

Kate chose not to tell Aaron Jack was his uncle yet, hoping someday Jack would choose to get sober. That he would choose to come back to them. She didn't want Aaron to feel the rejection she did as a child: from her mother. from Sam's absence when deployed. Between them, Sam was the only parent she could rely on.

She would tell Aaron someday. In the meantime, she couldn't bear putting her son through the tears and anguish again. He asked for Jack repeatedly after he left. She assumed, as time passed, he had forgotten. But obviously he didn't.

Kate smiled at Aaron as they settled in their seats. He unceremoniously shoved his backpack under the seat in front of him and wriggled out of his new coat while peering out the window. It was beaded with raindrops.

"Mom. Is Jack flying with us?" Aaron turned around quickly, enthusiasm in his face. She didn't want to squash it.

"I guess so." She showed him how to buckle and unbuckle his seatbelt as they talked. "Are you ready for your first airplane ride?"

Aaron took over the seat belt. "Yeah." He was a brimming with energy, fully charged with Jack showing up. He couldn't wait to see him again. But it sounded like Jack and his Mom were saying goodbye instead of hello. He frowned.

" _Yeah_? Are you okay?" Kate heard the hesitation in his tone.

"Kinda." Aaron fidgeted with his belt before starting to pull things out of the magazine compartment in front of him. "What's this?" He held up a folded, cardboard brochure with pictures of the plane and diagrams of how to get out of it. He didn't want to tell his mom he was afraid, especially of the plane taking off at a steep angle. He wondered if everything would roll to the back, including his bag.

"Emergency instructions. We won't need them, Sweet Pea." _We better not_. She thought about Jack's old confession of flying with the sole hope that the plane would crash. It made her cringe.

She turned her head to cough again. The man seated across the aisle gave her a dubious look and leaned away from her.

Jack craned his neck to glance at both of them. Kate's brown, wavy tresses and Aaron's golden, blonde hair were illuminated by the plane lights above their seats. Neither were looking at him. He sat three rows ahead of them in the aisle seat. He had mixed feelings, causing his stomach to churn.

Part of him wanted more time to talk. To say something meaningful after being absent for so many years, but the words wouldn't come. Guilt lashed at him when he thought of Aaron. He had promised Kate he would help raise him when they were together. Aaron was a baby, still in diapers when he left. Not a lanky ten-year-old. In a few years he would be taller than Kate.

And Kate. He wanted to step closer if she let him. To hug her hello and goodbye and take in the scent of her hair and skin. But it had been too long. He didn't feel like he was good enough to take the liberty.

Kate pulled out Aaron's iPod touch. It was loaded with games including Minecraft and episodes of his favorite cartoons. She caught him trying to look at Jack and wanted to avoid being questioned. She knew he was chock-full of them but didn't feel up answering any. Her temples throbbed.

Aaron eagerly took the iPod and the earphones, flashing her a bright smile. "Thanks, Mom!" He settled in and quickly navigated to his favorite game.

Kate rested her head on the seat back and closed her eyes briefly. It hurt to see Jack. It opened up something she tried to keep a lid on. The "could have's," "should have's," and "would have's" threatened to surface. They should have been married with at least one or two more children. Siblings and cousins for Aaron. He would have been the best big brother. They could have been happy together, like they were before things went south.

When Jack left, Aaron was collateral damage. She was angry at him for a long time. Mostly for not putting Aaron first. She told him she couldn't have him drinking or taking pills around her son. Kate refused to raise Aaron in an unstable home with an alcoholic father, same as she did. But she never told Jack to move out.

She would have stuck by Jack's side if he said he was going to get help. Instead, he walked out the front door. She understood over time it was the disease, not him. But she couldn't cure him. He had to _want_ sobriety. He wouldn't fight for _her_ or for _them._

It wounded her so deeply she failed to do more than go out on few dates over the years. It didn't feel right, so she gave up. She compared other men to Jack, how he used to be and the sum of them together. Nobody measured up.

Instead, Kate focused her energy on raising Aaron and loved him like he was her own flesh and blood. The same way Sam loved her. Sam didn't know about The Lie, but they still maintained it. Kate, Jack, Sun, Hurley and Sayid, wherever he was. Widmore was alive and well as far as she knew. Exposing The Lie could land Jack in jail for perjury at her trial and create problems for the five adults, Aaron, and generate a global media storm.

"Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Mike here on the flight deck with First Officer Nick. Just going through the pre-flight checklist and hope to push out of the gate in about five minutes. Right now, it's 53 degrees. The winds are out of the northeast about 37 miles per hour, gusting up to 40 miles per hour. Should be a smooth flight with a little bit of turbulence over the Rockies. Total flight time today is approximately three hours and five minutes to Calgary. We'll have you on the ground about 9:00 p.m. local time."

"Honey, you need to turn off your game until take-off." Kate opened her eyes and turned her head towards him. Fear cross Aaron's face. "It's going to be okay. Planes want to be in the air, Aaron."

Aaron nodded, noting how tired his mom looked as she turned her head away to cough. He swallowed and slipped his hand into hers as the plane sped up on the runway and shimmied slightly as it left the ground. Lights twinkled below them through the window until they hit the clouds. He sat back and closed his eyes while he counted to five in his head.

* * *

An hour into the flight, Aaron realized it was more boring than scary. He spent the first thirty minutes glued to the window. The sensation of the ground disappearing from under him was unsettling. The buildings shrank and the cars looked like ants crawling along the roadways as they ascended upward. Soon, all Aaron could see was white, puffy clouds reflecting the orange hue of the dying sunlight as the rain broke.

When the sun set, Aaron lost interest in the plane window and turned his attention to the screen mounted on the seat in front of him. He tapped it. The red and white Air Canada logo was replaced with a map tracking their progress. He tapped it again to find a selection of movies, eventually settling on _How the Grinch Stole Christmas._ Aaron watched it until a lady dressed in an Air Canada uniform offered him a glass of milk and a package of shortbread cookies. She didn't wake Kate when she leaned over to pass him the plastic cup and napkin.

Aaron twisted his mouth and glanced at his mother in consternation. She was slumped in the seat. Her head was at a slight angle and chin rested against her chest. She had been sleeping a lot and didn't seem interested in the plane ride.

"Hey! You awake?" He leaned over and whispered. "There's cookies." She had barely eaten all day.

"Not hungry." Kate responded automatically without opening her eyes. She swallowed and grimaced, twisting in her seat until she was comfortable. This time she was facing away from him.

Aaron craned his neck. He could see Jack in the aisle seat a few rows in front of them. His head was in his hands and he looked sad. Aaron stared intensely at the back of his head for several long moments, willing him to turn around. Eventually, he gave up and glanced uncertainly at Kate. She had been uncharacteristically quiet until she fell asleep. Aaron decided to let her sleep. He wouldn't want to be woken up if he was tired.

He chewed on the end of a shortbread cookie and tried to watch the movie. The change in altitude made his ears hurt and his headphones did a poor job of canceling out the rumbling of the plane's engines.

Aaron wasn't sure if he liked flying. He squirmed and tried to get more comfortable, but bumped his knees against the tray table. He caught his cup of milk before it spilled all over the carpet below. He considered fishing out his Nintendo DS from the backpack jammed under the seat but couldn't figure out how to do it with the tray table down.

Kate's cough drew his attention. He yanked the headphones out of his ears. He watched her with curiosity that quickly changed to worry.

"Hey, Mom. Are you okay?" Aaron gently touched her arm. Her skin was hot to the touch. She didn't respond when he shook her harder.

"I think there's something wrong with my mom," Aaron anxiously told the flight attendant when she returned to collect his cup.

She glanced at Kate, resting a hand on her shoulder as she tried to rouse her. "Excuse me? Ma'am?"

Kate shivered, but didn't react, lingering in the uneasy space between wakefulness and unconsciousness.

The flight attendant frowned. "Hmm … I'm just going to get your mother some help." She spoke calmly. Aaron didn't miss the look she exchanged with her male colleague before she walked to the front of the plane.

"Can I have your attention please? If there is a physician on board, please report to first class. I repeat, if there is a physician on board, please report to first class."

Aaron noticed Jack wasn't in his seat anymore. He was racing down the aisle toward them, the flight attendant in tow.

"Kate?" His eyes widened. His hands automatically went to her cheeks as he knelt next to her seat.

"Kate? Kate? Can you hear me?" His voice was firm but filled with worry. He slid his hands down the side of her neck, eliciting a groan as he probed the tender lymph nodes with his finger-tips. She shivered against his touch.

"You're a doctor, right? Can you make my mom better?" Aaron's eyes were worried yet hopeful, trusting Jack could do it.

His question caused something in Jack's demeanor to change. His shoulders slumped and he didn't meet Aaron's gaze.

 _No, not anymore._ He fucked that up a few years ago. A sad, bitter look flooded his features. The flight attendant didn't notice and handed him the aircraft medical kit.

"What do you need us to do?" It was enough to throw off the dismal train of thought. Something shifted, bringing the situation into a sharp focus. A part of Jack's mind he had been suppressing for a while kicked into gear.

"Mind clearing some room for me?" He issued the request automatically.

The passenger in the aisle seat adjacent to Kate quickly stood, looking nervous. He was paranoid whatever was wrong with her was contagious. He fled when the flight attendant redirected him to Jack's empty seat.

Jack set the hard-bodied kit in aisle, flicking the metal clips to inspect its contents. It was reasonably well-stocked: injectables in the top, diagnostic and airway management equipment in the bottom. He selected the stethoscope and gently slid it under Kate's sage green sweater, just below her clavicles. He listened from side to side, trailing the stethoscope down her chest as his other hand palpated her radial pulse. It was a little fast, but regular.

Kate jerked abruptly, plagued by the sensation that she was falling. Her hands scrabbled along the arm rests, eyes frantically trying to place her surroundings.

"Hey! Shhh. It's just me, Kate." Jack leaned in to catch her gaze, still holding the warm weight of her wrist in his palm, concern playing on his features.

"What?" She asked while blinking heavily. She had a vague memory of meeting him at the gate.

Jack sighed. "Are you feeling okay?"

It took her a long moment to run the question through her mind.

"I'm fine. Just didn't sleep well last night." Her tone was dismissive. He didn't miss how her eyes darted toward Aaron before she spoke.

Kate glanced down, noticing his hand, steadying the stethoscope, was still under her sweater and resting against her left breast. He flushed slightly as he removed it.

She raised an eyebrow at him, but the deep cough that erupted in her chest severely watered down the gesture.

"Kate, why don't you let me finish examining you?"

She recognized the tone in his voice. "No. Really. That's not necessary," Kate resisted and gave him a meaningful look, willing him not to press the issue. She was fine.

"Kate." Jack's brown eyes challenged her.

"I'm _fine_ , Jack."

They made eye contact again and were at an impasse. It was obvious she was lying, minimizing her illness. He wondered why and answered his own question. She was too damn stubborn for her own good. Some things never changed. His clenched his jaw.

Since Kate was awake and not in immediate peril, the flight attendants backed off. Jack remained and watched Kate for several moments before his head dipped. He stood with a defeated look before reluctantly making his way back to his seat.

"Mom?" Aaron had a question in his voice. He sounded scared.

Kate offered him a forced smile as she faced him. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as Jack walked away. It was impossible to miss the flush that crept up her cheeks.

"Don't worry, Goober." She ruffled his hair before Jack slide into the seat across the aisle from her. Her body involuntarily tensed up.

"My seat's taken," he muttered under his breath.

Kate braced herself for a lecture. The old Jack would have been relentless. When none was forthcoming, she shifted in her seat until her back was facing him. Truth be told, she wasn't feeling well or in the mood to deal with his problems. Not with Aaron there.

Aaron observed the entire exchange with grave curiosity. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just really tired like you were when you had that cold last week." Kate slipped her shoes off and drew her knees up to her chest.

"Mind if I take another nap?" She asked him sheepishly, not wanting him to worry or panic.

Aaron nodded, accepting her explanation. He could barely get out of bed to play his Xbox, let alone got to the park with Spencer when sick.

* * *

Kate slept restlessly, hovering in and out of consciousness. She didn't wake when Jack draped a blanket over her. Aaron watched intently. Jack put his index finger to his lips. Aaron nodded in response. Jack felt Kate's forehead with the lightest touch before sitting again. She had a fever and he was helpless to do anything about it. Not that she would take his advice anyways. He had long since lost the privilege.

Aaron leaned forward as Jack sat back in his seat and closed his eyes. He thought Jack must be tired too. He stared at him longer. Jack covered up his mom and seemed nice. He didn't understand why Mom didn't want Jack's help.

He sat back and played Minecraft absentmindedly. This wasn't going the way he was hoping. He thought they would talk and stuff. He barely remembered them together. One night they had got in a fight. He was sure of it. He bit his lip as the clipped memory came to mind. Loud voices woke him up. Mom was crying and held him and Jack … He couldn't remember, just that he wasn't there afterwards.

Aaron stole another peek at Jack. He was the same but not. He looked different with the beard. Aaron wrinkled his nose a bit. He wasn't used to seeing beards on men except Santa and didn't know if he liked it. He swung his legs back and forth a bit, wondering how Santa was going to make them fall in love again when they wouldn't even talk.

He checked on his mom. Her cheeks were pink and her face was kind of white. He mimicked Jack's gesture, gently putting the back of his hand against her forehead. It felt hot like her arm. He jerked it back quickly, not wanting to wake her. He didn't want his mom to be sick. He watched her closely before glancing at Jack again, wishing he would help her.

Kate was slept soundly, only twitching on occasion. Aaron noticed he had a clear path on the floor to get out of his seat. He unbuckled, set down his iPod and decided to slip past her like a ninja. He needed to talk to Jack.

He stood and crept slowly past Kate while facing her. She didn't move. He was sure she would catch him. In fact, he was expecting it. He was surprised when he made it to the aisle and she didn't stir. He quickly sidled up to Jack's seat and put his hand on the arm rest. "Jack?" He whispered and poked Jack's left shoulder.

Jack's eyes popped open. He had to blink a few times before he noticed a familiar pair of blue eyes staring at his. "Jack? Are you awake?" Aaron whispered loudly.

Jack felt a smile come to his lips but tried to suppress it. He glanced at Kate, who was balled up and still covered by the blanket. "I am now. What do you want, buddy?" The words came naturally. He rubbed his eyes and turned towards Aaron.

"Why won't you make my mom better?" Aaron's eyes held hope. He had faith in Jack's abilities.

The old Jack would have. If Kate let him. He paused before answering. "She doesn't want me to." He didn't know if it was the right thing to say, but it was the truth.

"Why not?" Aaron's blond brows lowered. He was puzzled. Mom made him take medicine when he was sick. Why wouldn't she take some to feel better?

"I don't know. Maybe she just wants to sleep." Jack answered. He covered his mouth to stifle a yawn.

"She's got a cough and already slept really late today. She _never_ sleeps late. It was almost twelve when she got up." Aaron picked at a seam in the armrest. "I don't think sleep is gonna help."

Jack could see the distress on his young face. He was too young to be fretting over his mother's health. Jack sighed imperceptibly, wishing he could take back the words he spoke to Kate years ago. She loved and took care of Aaron since the day they escaped the island. They were engaged two and a half years later. An argument quickly escalated into a fight. She told him she couldn't have alcohol and drugs around her son. In a rage, fueled by those substances, he went below the belt and told Kate she wasn't even related to him. Kate looked horrified, as if he thrust a dagger into her heart. Tears poured down her face. Worst yet, baby Aaron walked in, obviously upset. Jack closed his eyes and wished for a drink. He felt a small finger poke him again.

"Jack? I remember you. Did you read me stories?" Aaron shifted from one foot to the other. He didn't want to sound like a baby. Somewhere deep inside, Aaron wanted to connect with the only father he knew.

A flight attendant came by and smiled at them both before passing. Aaron scooted into Jack's space, next to his long legs, to get out of the aisle. Jack shifted to let him. Aaron's hand was still on the armrest, picking at it as he waited for Jack's answer.

Jack's eyes crinkled warmly. "I'm surprised you remember. You were still a baby." He hoped Aaron didn't remember much else. Especially the fight. "I read you stories at bedtime. Do you remember which one was your favorite?"

Aaron regarded him seriously. He blushed and put his hand on his face in complete embarrassment. "Aw. You're not gonna make me say it, are you?" He knew which book. It used to be his favorite.

Jack chuckled genuinely and was surprised at the sound emanating from his throat. He hadn't laughed in a long time. "No. I won't."

Aaron breathed out in relief, but found he wanted to tell him. To let Jack know he remembered. He glanced at the sleeping man next to Jack and back to his mom, who hadn't moved, before leaning in close. He cupped his hands around his mouth. Jack tipped his head forward as Aaron whispered loudly in his ear. "Alice in Wonderland. But don't tell anyone. It's for girls."

Aaron had a look of distaste when he drew back, his cheeks a vivid pink.

"What makes you think it's for girls? I loved that book when I was a boy. My dad used to read it to me." Jack was amused. He kept his voice low to avoid embarrassing Aaron.

"I don't know. It's about a silly girl." Aaron shrugged.

"That doesn't mean it's only for girls, Aaron. I liked it too." Jack said conspiratorially.

Aaron grinned in response and felt relieved. If Jack liked it, it must be okay.

Jack wasn't used to this much attention anymore, especially from a child. But he didn't feel as awkward as he thought he would. _Aaron's my nephew_. He had to remind himself. It was so easy to forget when he didn't see him.

Kate coughed again. They both turned to her at the same time. She stirred but didn't wake. "Jack, I want you to fix my Mom. Her forehead feels hot. She takes good care of me when I'm sick and I don't know what to do. I'm not a doctor yet." Aaron lifted his hands and shrugged.

Jack brought his hand to his chin, the beard in his way. He wished he could but tried to change the subject. "You want to be a doctor?"

Aaron gave him a big nod. "Yep!"

"Why?" Jack raised an inquisitive brow.

"Because you are. You fix people and I want to be like you. If not, I'm gonna be a Black Ops fighter pilot." He held up his small hands, clasped them together and pretended to shoot at a target.

The plane shook suddenly. Aaron lost his balance and almost fell. Jack reached out instantly and pulled him close to steady him. The same flight attendant appeared and bent down to speak. "You need to be in your seat and buckled up, young man. Do you need help?"

Aaron answered instantly. "No. I'm big now. And Jack can help me if I wasn't. He is … um … was my dad." Aaron squirmed and look at the floor, his face turning red.

Jack reassured the flight attendant. "I'll make sure he gets in his seat." His heart flooded with more regret.

Aaron didn't want to look at Jack. His eyes filled up. He didn't want to cry in front of him.

Jack released him. Aaron continued to stare at the floor, his little shoulders squared as he took in deep breaths. Jack sat up and leaned forward. "Hey. Aaron. Look at me."

Aaron shook his head "No" but stood his ground. He didn't bolt for his seat, despite his obvious discomfort.

Jack drew Aaron closer by clasping both shoulders gently. He pulled him close until Aaron was inches away. He tipped his chin up with his fingers. Aaron's eyes were still downcast. After few seconds of silence passed, he figured out Jack wasn't going to let him go until he looked up. When he did, his eyes were wet with unshed tears.

Jack searched the eyes of his nephew, knowing the pain was his fault. He was supposed to be his surrogate dad. He didn't have a clue his nephew had these feelings, much less remembered him. He could see the desire, the wish in the depths of his blue eyes and it hit him. In Aaron's mind, Jack was his dad. Then he wasn't, as if he quit the job. He never considered how it would affect Aaron. Jack tried to comfort him the best he could. "You can call me anything you want, buddy." It evoked a puzzled look from Aaron. "As long as it's not a curse word." He added and winked at him.

His comment elicited a grin from Aaron. He threw his arms around Jack's neck including his scratchy beard, and hugged him. Jack was taken by surprise, but managed to pat his back a few times before Aaron released him and turned back to his mom. He slid quietly past her.

Jack watched as he hopped into his seat and buckled up, swinging his legs that didn't quite reach the floor. Aaron leaned forward and gave Jack a thumbs-up to let him know he did what the flight attendant said.

Jack returned the gesture before leaning back in his seat. His face fell when he was hidden from the child's view. He felt an emptiness inside. It was a space he didn't realize was there among the rubble and ashes. He tried to fill the large, gaping void with pills and booze for years. But there was a special place inside his heart that was making itself known. And only Aaron could fill it.

* * *

YYC, Calgary International Airport was located approximately 10 miles northeast of the downtown. It was an oblong, horseshoe-shaped building with terminals that arced out toward the runway like spokes on a wheel.

The first thing Aaron noticed as he stared out the plane window was the ground covered in a thick blanket of muddy, grey snow lining the asphalt where it was lit up. It was dark. Aaron couldn't see much else as they descended. The landing was quick and before he knew it, people around him were standing up and opening the overhead bins in the aisle.

Jack hung back, watching them with a strange expression on his face.

"Come on, Aaron. Grandpa's probably waiting." Kate woke during the landing. She looked exhausted. Kate stood, shouldered her purse and waited for Aaron to pull his backpack from under the seats.

Her eyes accidentally met Jack's. He gave her a brief nod but didn't say anything. Kate did the same. When they passed, Kate let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. It's not that she didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to recycle the same conversation he had with her over and over about the flights, crashing, and god forbid she say anything about him getting help. It left her with little to say. She cared about him but was at a loss, especially with Aaron present and had no energy to spare.

They entered the terminal to find it densely crowded with frustrated travelers around the flight status screens. "CANCELED" was written next to every flight in bold letters. The screen flashed red with an Environment Canada winter storm alert. It had been upgraded to a blizzard warning.

"Where to now, Mom?" Aaron wondered where their bags and Grandpa Sam were. Their pace was slow. Kate seemed to have trouble navigating the blue and yellow signs hanging from the ceiling. The one labeled "Baggage Claim" had an arrow pointing right.

"Mom?" Aaron tugged at her coat sleeve. They came to a stop between the Tim Hortons and Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory on the concourse.

Kate shook her head and raised her hand to her temple. The loud din people made and fluorescent lights were overwhelming her senses. Her eyelids drifted shut as she did so. Her whole head was throbbing, making it hard to concentrate.

"What?" Kate mumbled the word while trying to focus on his question. She was confused and shaky. _Where are we going?_ People moved back and forth. Some bumped into them. She instinctively drew Aaron close with her arm but wasn't sure what to do. It came back to her slowly. _Bags. We have to get our bags._

Her limbs felt heavy and body felt overheated. But she moved forward slowly only from sheer determination. Aaron gripped her sleeve. Mom was acting strange. He wished he was big so he could help her. He looked around and didn't see Grandpa. Nobody seemed to notice something was wrong.

"I think our bags are this way." Aaron pointed to a sign displaying a picture of a suitcase. It was where everyone else seemed to be heading.

Suddenly, Kate froze and looked at Aaron and then above him, bewildered as if she didn't recognize him.

"Mars! Let go of me!" She hissed and violently pulled back her arm, shaking Aaron from her sleeve. Kate held her hands to her chest, her ribcage rising and falling rapidly in anger. The sneering vision of the marshal wavered next to her with handcuffs. He dangled them from one finger. She could barely breathe.

The look on her face scared Aaron.

"Mom?" He moved towards her, but she backed away. She mumbled something. He couldn't understand anything except the words "No more." Her eyes glowed, wide with fear.

"You're not makin' any sense!" His voice rose several pitches, panicking.

Kate stared at him, struggling to breath. Her face contorted in distress. She swayed a little on her feet and pressed her thumbs to her temples as the world began to turn gray and tilt. She tried to take a step, but stumbled.

A pair of long arms quickly wrapped around her from behind and prevented her from slumping to the floor.

"Kate!"


	3. Grounded

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. We really appreciate it! The holidays will be extended a bit as we complete this story. :) More to come!_

 _Cheers,_

 _DimpleCurlAeternaGirl & Tangler_

* * *

"Kate? Kate?!"

Kate groaned. Her body shook uncontrollably, muscles tense against the ice trying to solidify in her veins. She couldn't recall ever being this cold in her entire life, but was too weak to do anything about it.

"Kate?"

She cracked open an eyelid with immense effort. The world swam woozily. She whimpered. Her heart was still hammering from the overload of adrenaline. She had a vague memory of being afraid of something, but had no idea what it was. A blurry, dark shape hovered above her, speaking softly in a familiar tone. It seemed important that she focused on the words, but she couldn't. She drifted for a while. Her body seemed to be moving without her input, but she was too exhausted to care.

Jack re-adjusted Kate against his arms, hooking her knees to brace her against his chest. Her head sagged against him.

"Why do you always have to be so stubborn?" He sighed heavily and remembered Aaron.

The boy was staring at them, wide-eyed and fearful. Jack could see his bottom lip trembling. It was obvious he was holding back tears and failing badly.

"Don't worry." Jack tried to mask his own concern. "She'll be okay."

He rested a hand against Kate's clammy forehead. She mumbled something incoherent and instinctively burrowed her head between the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

He mentally took inventory as he assessed her. Kate's breathing was fine. Pulse? Fast, but not worrisome. And her level of consciousness decreased, but he knew why. She had a high fever. He was confident he could wake her up if he tried, but he knew Kate. She would insist she was "fine" and he would end up chasing her around the airport until she collapsed again.

"I think she's just got a bad case of the flu," he explained to Aaron. "The fever is her body's way of fighting the virus. Sometimes it can make people really confused."

"You can fix her, right?"

The harsh florescent lights cast a cool sheen on everything below, making Aaron squint as he tilted his head to look up at Jack.

Jack frowned. No one had looked at him with that degree of faith in a long time. Not since people depended on him. People he grew to know better than anyone in his life in a short amount of time. People who relied on him for safety and survival. Not that it did them much good. He buried more than he saved. His stomach clenched. It was in knots. The last time he made a promise he had failed badly. Who was he to promise Aaron anything? He couldn't even manage helping Kate care for the boy. God! He owed Claire that much. Claire should have been saved. Not him. It never should have been him.

"Please, Jack?"

Jack was lost in his thoughts. He struggled to focus, to mentally stay in the moment as he felt his own anxiety rise. He blew out a breath and glanced at the boy who was tugging on his sleeve.

"She needs to rest, Aaron." His heart, usually numb, smoldered with remorse. But Aaron wasn't looking at him anymore.

* * *

Sergeant Major Sam Austen glanced down at his Rolex Submariner, tapping its face. The watch had been a retirement gift from the United States Army. It hung heavy and awkward on his wrist, but he wore it on occasion. He compared the time it displayed with the flight-status board mounted on the wall and facing the main entrance. His eyes scanned the list of the ten or so planes that were slotted to land within the next two hours. The WestJet out of Toronto, and the First Air from Ottawa were tagged as "Delayed." Several of the U.S.-based flights were listed as "Cancelled."

It took a moment for him to locate Air Canada Flight 259 out of Los Angeles. The flight status said "Arrived," but his daughter and grandson were nowhere in sight.

He spoke with Kate and Aaron at least twice a week and occasionally did FaceTime calls. Kate bought him an iPhone for that exact purpose. He didn't need the extra bells and whistles. A regular, no-frills cell phone was just fine. But seeing her and his grandson on screen was worth the upgrade.

Despite this, it had been almost a year since he had seen them in person. Normally, he spent Christmas in L.A. since Kate's probation restricted her to the state of California. Now that it was lifted, they finally had something to celebrate. But she seemed unfazed and a little withdrawn. His gut told him something wasn't right with her, but she hid it well. There was a touch of sadness in her eyes when she thought nobody was looking. A look he recognized. It was loss. He didn't question her about it, knowing it would be an empty fishing expedition. He hoped a quiet holiday in the mountains would cheer her up.

Sam scanned the area again. His vantage point gave him a decent view of the baggage claim. He watched it with anticipation as the gathering crowd collected their luggage and quickly departed through the wide double doors behind him.

The snow was light, but steady. People were wasting no time forming queues under the overhang where the taxis gathered. Sam shifted impatiently, knowing it wouldn't be long before the wind picked up and they would start to lose visibility. He estimated they had a two-hour drive in front of them. An hour and a half to Banff Provincial Park and another twenty-five minutes to his cabin, nestled in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies.

He looked down in surprise when something latched onto his leg.

"Hey there, Scout!" Sam laughed, his eyes sparkling with recognition. He bent to hug Aaron. "My, you are getting tall." He glanced over Aaron's head. "Where's your mom?"

"Jack has her, Grandpa! He said she has a bad flu and fever. She didn't know me and fell. Now she won't wake up." Aaron pulled back to look up, slightly out of breath from running. He turned and pointed towards Jack, who was gently placing Kate on adjacent seats along the wall to let her lay down. He put his suit coat under her head and turned to look for Aaron.

Sam rushed over, Aaron's hand clasped in his, as they dodged people making their way to the luggage carousel. He took a knee next to his daughter immediately and put his large, calloused hand on her forehead. "Katie? It's Dad. Can you hear me?" Kate's eyes remained closed. He turned to Jack who sat next to her.

"I'm Sam Austen. Aaron said you took care of my daughter." He reached out his hand and shook Jack's. Sam paused for a moment, issuing Jack a piercing look. It couldn't be…

"Jack Shephard." Jack noted Sam's firm grip. The man had short, greying hair and was well-groomed in his flannel shirt, jeans, coat and boots. Every button was in place and hardly a wrinkle was to be found on him except his face. His forehead was creased in the center as his brows pinched together with concern.

"Jack was on our plane." Aaron said. "Mom wouldn't wake up but he helped her. He's a doctor and he …. um … is my dad." Aaron cast his eyes down before looking at his mom. "But then she got sick again and Jack caught her before she fell."

Everything had already clicked in Sam's mind. This was Kate's Jack. The one she was going to marry. She never said anything bad about him or why they broke up. But the man in front of him was not the same depicted in the picture with baby Aaron at the park. The picture had taken up permanent residence on Kate's sideboard table.

Sam shook his head, finding it ironic Kate took after him. She fell in love with one person and lost interest in finding anyone else after it ended. He wanted more for her. She was young and deserved to be happy. Especially after everything she had been through.

He fixed Jack with a hard stare. "Tell me what happened. Aaron said it's the flu?" His tone was firm as he glanced back at Kate. She drew her knees to her chest and shivered. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her without taking his eyes off Jack.

Jack suddenly felt self-conscious about his appearance under Sam's gaze. Anxiety crept in. He tried to push it aside and focus on Kate. "When I first saw her, she was pale and coughing. She slept most of the flight. They paged for a doctor when Aaron couldn't wake her. She has a temp, but was doing okay otherwise. Kate didn't want me to treat her." Sam listened and raised a brow at his last words.

"She said she was 'fine.'" Jack explained ruefully.

Sam shook his head while his hand cupped her shoulder gently before touching her hair. She didn't respond. "Stubborn as a mule. Some things never change."

He stood and sighed. Aaron slipped his hand into his and Sam squeezed it to comfort him. He turned his attention to Jack.

"You staying here for the holidays?" He wondered. It wasn't lost on Sam that Jack just happened to be on the same flight.

Jack palmed the back of his head and rubbed it. It reminded him of his appearance. He flushed. The longer layers prevented him from feeling the bristles of his hair when he used to keep it closely cropped.

"No. Just a layover." Kate twitched. Jack moved without thinking, his hand instantly on her side to keep her from tumbling off the chairs.

Sam observed the protective gesture, a curious light in his eyes, but said nothing. He had taken note of the status boards as he waited for their plane to arrive. All outbound flights had been preemptively cancelled.

Aaron tugged on Sam's sleeve. Sam bent down, peering into the blue eyes of his grandson, a hue close to the shade of his own. It was ironic, considering Kate wasn't his biological daughter, despite the fact his name was on her birth certificate. But she was his in every way that mattered. He couldn't love her or Aaron more if they were his own flesh and blood.

"Grandpa. Can Jack stay with us? Please? He can help us with Mom. I don't want her to be sick anymore." Aaron pled, his eyes hopeful and hands clasped together tightly in supplication. He wanted so badly for Jack to stay with them. It was his Christmas wish. And he wanted his mom to get better. Aaron looked at her and took Sam's hand again, clenching it tight with uncertainty. He needed them both to stay together if his Christmas gift was going to happen.

Jack was preoccupied with checking on Kate. He barely caught Aaron's words and felt awkward. He didn't want to impose. He was sure there was a bar in the airport or one nearby that was open. His mind tried to spin up words of protest. He felt a pull towards Kate and didn't want to leave her. But he knew she wouldn't want him around Aaron. He blew that chance a long time ago. He didn't want to be a burden or upset her.

Sam looked at Jack and then his grandson, his decision made. "Well, I guess that settles it. Jack, will you keep an eye on Katie while Aaron and I get the luggage? Can't leave a man behind, can we Aaron?" Aaron's eyes lit up. He wanted to jump up and down but his mom's prone body put a damper on it.

"Mr. Austen, you don't have to…" Jack glanced outside at the snow. "I didn't bring anything for the weather and will be fine here."

"You sound just like Katie. You _won't_ be fine here. No flights will be getting out tonight with the storm blowing in and hotels are going to be full. I appreciate your help with my daughter and can't leave Aaron's dad behind in good conscience." His assumption made Jack wince, but Sam didn't notice. He regarded the man sympathetically, knowing Jack was an absentee father. But he didn't judge him, having been one himself. He felt blessed Katie didn't hold it against him. Being a father and a grandpa gave his life more meaning and purpose.

"I have a spare coat in the car and can bring you back tomorrow to catch your connecting flight." He was calm but firm, allowing no room for argument.

Jack's protests died on his tongue. No matter how uncomfortable he felt, a part of him felt relieved. He could get Kate started on a regimen to help her recover. It felt strange yet familiar at the same time. This is what he did. Or used to do. Take care of people. Take care of her … when she would let him.

It took Jack a moment to realize Sam didn't bother to wait for a response. He caught Aaron sneaking a pleased look back at him as he followed his grandpa to the baggage claim.

Jack turned to Kate, his hand still on her side. He wondered how he ended up in Canada with the people who should have been his family versus crossing the Pacific, hoping again for the plane to crash.

"This isn't what's supposed to happen," he mumbled as he tucked the coat snugly around Kate's shoulders.

* * *

The luggage carousel was almost empty by the time Sam and Aaron plodded over to it. Sam easily snagged the two blue suitcases Aaron pointed at as they circled the belt. The wheels squeaked when they made contact with the polished linoleum.

Sam turned to Aaron. "Will you let Jack know I'm gonna bring the Jeep around front?"

Aaron nodded. He watched his grandson run back towards the seating area. Sam made brief eye contact with Jack as he rolled the suitcases toward the exit.

With the traffic, it took Sam a good fifteen minutes to retrieve his Jeep from short-term parking. His slate grey 2007 Grand Cherokee was old and rusted around the wheel wells, but reliable. He pulled up flush with curb outside the Arrivals terminal, ignoring the annoyed honking of taxis when he refused to move. Aaron led Jack over to the vehicle, Kate bundled in his arms and his briefcase tucked against his side. Sam slid out of the driver's seat to help.

"Come on! It's a cold one tonight." Sam held the rear passenger door for Jack and gave him a sympathetic glance when he realized the man's coat was wrapped around Kate, leaving him in nothing but a thin, pin-striped dress shirt in the biting, cold wind. Jack loaded her carefully across the seat, then followed, lifting her head to allow her to use his knee as a pillow.

"You're ridin' shotgun, Scout." He gestured to the passenger seat. Normally, Aaron normally would jump at the chance of riding up front with his grandfather. But when he was buckled in, it made it hard to turn around and see how his mom was doing. He didn't know what to think. He was happy to see Grandpa Sam, and Jack was coming with them. But he was afraid for his mom and still rattled that she didn't recognize him. She said "Mars" like the planet, but reacted like it was a bad person. He tried to turn and kneel in the seat.

"Aaron, you need to sit on your bottom facing forward. Safety first. Your mom's not going anywhere." Sam scolded softly as he slid into his own seat.

Aaron recognized the command in his grandpa's voice, despite the kind tone.

"Yes, Grandpa," he mumbled sheepishly.

The Jeep's ignition sputtered once before it roared to life with a low rumble. Sam adjusted the heating vents and flicked on the rear defrost before he slid the gearshift into drive. He looked in the rear-view mirror. Kate was stretched across the backseat, covered with the army blanket he kept in the car. Jack had folded up his own coat and put it on his lap for her to use as pillow. The man looked as worried as Sam felt.

"Jack, there should be another blanket under the seat if you're cold. And a coat if you need it." Sam stole another glance at Jack, scrutinizing his appearance. He certainly didn't look like a doctor, or any form of working professional. His demeanor was more like a dog that had been beaten. Sam's gut was screaming something wasn't quite right about the man. He mentally weighed the risks. Jack was a stranger to him and hurt his daughter, at least emotionally. But he was also, presumably, Aaron's father. Kate had never weighed in on the subject of Aaron's paternity and Sam knew better than to ask. The boy seemed to adore him.

Was there any harm in bringing him home for the night? Sam was conflicted. Jack had proven himself a big help with Kate being sick and was gentle with her. And he couldn't just leave him behind to sleep in the airport. Especially after seeing the expectant look in his grandson's face. He was family, or at least used to be. It was the right thing to do.

Sam was so lost in thought, he didn't know if Jack had responded about the blanket or coat. He focused his attention on the road.

Approximately 20 miles past the outskirts of Calgary, the snow started coming down hard. The wipers were hardly able to keep up with the snowflakes rushing the windshield. They looked like white clumps in the headlights.

The cab was silent enough to hear the mechanical swishing of the wiper blades. Aaron respected that his mom wasn't feeling well and held back his questions for Jack. He yawned and turned to peer out the window at the endless swaths of snow-laden fields as they passed, spotting the occasional barn.

If it were any other time of year the land would have been teaming with cattle. Beef was one of Alberta's main exports and the ranchers here took pride in their stock. Many had migrated out of the city when the oil prices fell and housing became too costly. The land was vast and the Canadian winter, unforgiving, but people managed well enough.

Jack had barely uttered two words since he agreed to come with them. He felt as though he was intruding on something that he wasn't meant to be a part of. Not anymore. He watched the dips and swells of snow blanketing the ground alongside the road. The wind was picking up. Dense snowfall obscured his view of the tall firs that lined the highway as they crept out of the valley. He had warmed up. Kate's body was giving off enough heat for the both of them. She still shivered despite the blanket, her coat, and the heated vehicle. Jack tentatively brushed some stray curls from her face. It had been so long. His feelings were surfacing without any alcohol or oxys to numb them. He missed having her close, her smile, the scent of her skin, and those eyes that always seemed to see straight through him. God! What the hell had he done? He was ashamed of the difficulty he had adjusting back into his own life, but more than that, he couldn't be man she deserved and wanted him to be.

Sam honked a few times at some deer idling in the road, startling Jack. They saw the headlights coming and stared until the horn blared. The four deer startled and bound away with giant leaps. Aaron had only seen deer at the Angeles National Forest near his home and Los Angeles Zoo. He leaned forward, surprised to see how high they leapt, clearing drifts and easily navigating deep snow as the Jeep continued its ascent.

"Jack!" Kate's eyelids were shut tight as she shifted restlessly. He quickly put his hand on her hip again to keep her from falling off the seat. He caught a fleeting glimpse of the deer but wasn't interested.

"Shhh, you're okay." He leaned over and whispered soothingly, unaware of Sam observing the exchange, his brows drawn together.

Kate was in a familiar clearing. God, she was warm. The humidity and residual moisture, from the almost daily downpours hung heavy in the air. The result was a haze that muted the bright colors of the jungle. She traversed the narrow footpath from the hatch to beach on a daily basis. Normally, she could make the journey with little effort, but today she was weighed down with fatigue that seemed to sink deep into her bones. She dismissed it as a product of the mid-afternoon heat. Jack was always lecturing them about the importance of not staying out in the sun too long. She turned to reach for her pack, knowing she had at least two bottles of water, but frowned when she came up empty-handed.

Where was her pack?

She spun on her heels. Had she left it at the hatch? She noticed for the first time how strangely silent it was. Silence, she had learned, was a bad thing. Not a bird chirping. Not a leaf rustling. It set her on edge. Her heart sped up, knowing something wasn't right. Then the whispers started. Just a simple buzzing at first, gradually morphing into loud, breathy voices droning non-stop from every direction. She didn't understand, but knew she would have to run for it if she wanted to survive.

Loud, mechanical sounds erased all thoughts. It was a clinking noise, like heavy chains combined with something organic. It roared, sending Kate into a full-out sprint. She raced through the jungle using every ounce of energy until she could go no further. She slipped into the hollow center of a banyan tree. It seemed to grow wider as she stood, shaking uncontrollably. Kate braced herself by gripping the knotted trunks beside her.

A man in a white t-shirt and jeans came into view, but her vision was blurred. "Jack," she whimpered, too exhausted and breathless to yell.

Jack came to a sudden halt, but seemed to look straight through her. Thin wisps of smoke mushroomed into an immense cloud behind him. He was oblivious and scanned the area for her. "Kate!" He called out for her, his hands cupped around his mouth. A smoky strand shot out, like a tentacle. It encircled his legs as it spiraled up and around his body in a coil. She tried to yell, to warn him. She wanted to grab him before it dragged him across the jungle floor or flung him into a tree. But the banyan tree's trunks had multiplied. Her shelter became a jail.

Kate grew more fitful and began to flail.

"Whoa, Kate!" Jack held her firmly as she struggled.

"Smoke monster! Behind you!" Her face contorted as if she was in pain. Jack swallowed hard. He caught Sam looking at him in the rearview mirror with a highly inquisitive look. But his focus was Kate.

"Shhh. Relax, Kate. It isn't real." He whispered in her ear. "You're safe." He used his other hand to feel her forehead again. She was burning up.

"Kate? If you can hear me we're okay. It's the fever." He knew the likelihood of her understanding him was low. But maybe the sound of his voice would help in some way.

"Jack? What's Mom talking about? What's a smoke monster?" Aaron's voice sounded younger than a ten-year-old's. His mom was dreaming about monsters. But she said they weren't real. He didn't know grown-ups had dreams like that.

"Nothing Aaron." Jack ran his hand over Kate's head with more confidence. He had to keep her calm and get the fever down. "Your mom's high fever is giving her nightmares."

"Oh. But what's a smoke monster?" Aaron asked. "Does he smoke cigarettes? Those are bad for you."

Jack was somewhat amused. Sam coughed abruptly. Jack met his eyes. He was also trying not to laugh. "You're right. Cigarettes are bad. I can't say, Aaron. And I doubt she'll remember when her fever is gone." He turned his head towards Sam. "How long until we get there? I need to get this fever under control."

Sam glanced at the clock. "Best estimate is another hour and a half, give or take. It's a slow go with the snow accumulation and no snow plows in sight." His brows came together at the predicament. The sooner they got home, the better.

"How is she?" His concern was evident.

Jack sighed. "She's delirious or dreaming. Probably both. We need to get her body temperature down. She'll be a lot more comfortable." He didn't like the fact her body heat was radiating through her clothes like a furnace. "Do you have a clean towel and water?"

Sam reached into the console between him and Aaron and pulled out a clean cloth. "Water bottles are in the small cooler on my side. I figured they might be thirsty after the flight."

Jack took the cloth gratefully and handed Aaron a bottle before opening a second one and dampened the cloth. He draped it across Kate's forehead to cool her down. She mumbled in protest, but he spoke to her in hushed, reassuring tones. He wasn't going to let anything happen to her. He leaned back against the seat when she settled. He kept his eyes on her, but relaxed the arm that was still draped across her hipbone.

Sam eased his foot from the accelerator, squinting through the windshield into the inky darkness. He had driven the long stretch of the Trans-Canada from Alberta to Banff many times. He could picture the landmarks in his mind's eye. He knew when they passed through Canmore the only thing he should be able to see was the unfathomable beauty of the Rocky Mountains as they dominated the skyline. Instead, his vision was restricted to the dull patch of icy road a few feet beyond the hood of the Jeep. His headlights picked up the snowflakes as they swirled toward him, some building on the windshield only to be flicked away by his wipers. He hadn't passed a single car since Morley, but he wasn't worried. His Jeep was reliable enough and once they passed through Banff, the mountains would provide a modest barrier from the winds.

* * *

Sam's cabin was situated near a dirt access road just past the turn-off to Lake Louise. He barely saw the trail marker through the storm, a florescent orange tag denoting a gravel path where the snow had been beaten down. The area was popular enough with skiers and local outfitters, so the makeshift road was maintained. But in this weather, he doubted it would be much longer. The tires whined and spun as he forced his Jeep along the narrow ruts of the icy path. It was a good twenty minutes before the pale lights of the cabin were barely visible from a distance. Pines dotted the landscape and briefly blocked their view as they crept inland. Sam pulled into his driveway, a makeshift space he created with his snow blower before leaving. It was already filling in with more snow. He parked the Jeep adjacent to the house and cut the engine.

Sam turned to see Aaron slumped in his seat, fast asleep. He looked over his shoulder at Jack and whispered. "Give me a head start. I'll take Aaron in and open the door so you can follow with Kate."

He swung his car door open and landed on the snow. It felt good to walk after the long, vigilant drive. The powdery snow crunched under his boots. He opened Aaron's car door, unbuckled him, and scooped his 85-pound grandson as if he weighed nothing. It seemed like yesterday Aaron was just a little boy. He was growing so fast. Sam was grateful to still have little moments like this with his grandson. He would have enjoyed it more if his girl wasn't sick. Sam closed car the door with his elbow as he cradled Aaron and trudged up the steps to the door. When he opened it, the light spilled like a beacon into the frigid night.

Jack had already exited the Jeep and pulled Kate carefully into his arms. She moaned and pressed her face into his chest. He eyed his briefcase and decided to come back for it. He hustled inside to get her out of the cold.

He admired the cabin as he entered. It was simple yet cozy with braided rugs, wood floors and furniture. A combination of rustic and with a touch of modern on the inside.

Sam emerged from the hallway. He had deposited Aaron in the smaller of his two spare rooms. "I'll go get the suitcases. Put Katie in here." He indicated the open door to the bedroom adjacent to the living room.

Jack noticed everything was neat as a pin as he brought her in. The bed was made and several quilts were at the foot of it. He decided to lay her on top of the blankets until he could assess her again. He sat beside her and looked up as Sam came in with Kate's suitcase.

"Your briefcase and suit coat are in the front living room." The worry in Sam's voice was evident. "Never seen her like this before. Katie's usually healthy as a horse."

Sweat dotted her brow and upper lip, yet she shivered and mumbled. Sam quickly left and reappeared with a battered looking first-aid kit. Jack opened it and surveyed the contents.

"Kate, I need you to wake up now." Jack told her gently.

Her eyes opened partly but were unfocused and bloodshot. Sam watched as she gazed up without seeing and murmured something before closing them again. He sat down on the opposite side of the bed and felt her forehead.

"Katie? It's your dad. Wake up, honey." He squeezed her shoulder but she didn't respond to him.

Sam was at a loss. He appraised Jack, who continued to try to get her to wake. He had found a generic oral thermometer at the bottom of the kit. It had to be at least ten years old, but was certainly better than nothing.

"She's burning up. We gotta try and get a temperature on her to see what we're dealing with." Jack sighed, hoping Sam wouldn't murder him outright as he shifted on the bed, pulling Kate against his chest so that he could sit her up. She whimpered and he gently stroked her damp, sweat drenched hair. She unconsciously nuzzled into his touch, seeking the cool relief his skin brought to her body even though she was shivering.

Jack stroked her cheek until he could get her mouth open enough to wedge the thermometer inside. She almost bit down on it twice. He had to distract her by pinching her neck and squeezing her wrist a little too hard to redirect her attention.

The thermometer beeped and Jack frowned. No wonder she thought she was cold. The nerves do not distinguish between hot and cold. She was in the throes of fever and might as well be standing naked in a snowstorm.

"104.2 degrees." Jack rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger briefly, wishing he had an IV to run some fluids through. He had a viable option but wasn't sure her father would allow it.

Sam could see the wheels in Jack's head turning. He could tell the man was sincere with his concern about Kate but was hesitant to say something. Almost nervous. "Well? Speak plainly, Jack. What do we need to do?"

Jack took in a deep breath and looked over at Sam. "We need to get her in the tub, get her cooled down. It should wake her up enough to get some Tylenol and fluids into her.

Sam shot Jack a look that made the man squirm. He mentally weighed out the options. Bathing his grown daughter wasn't something he wanted to do personally. Even if she was fully clothed. He sighed and shifted his stance slightly.

Jack held his gaze for several moments before looking at Kate again. He knew her father wasn't keen on the idea but was mulling it over. Jack wasn't her husband or fiancé.

"It's the quickest way to get her feeling better." He spoke firmly and cupped Kate's cheek and jawline. Her neck was flushed a florid pink that traveled into her cheeks.

Sam didn't sense anything untoward about Jack's proposal. Hell, it was smart. An old-fashioned remedy his grandma used on him when he was a kid and running a high fever. Kate might not like either, but it would take hours to get her to the hospital if she got worse. He made up his mind quickly; To trust Jack based on what he had seen so far. He felt protective over Kate and her privacy, but yielded. Jack and Kate were a couple in the past. It would be a big help and spare him and Kate both current and future embarrassment. "Would you be comfortable giving her one?"

Jack's head snapped up. He looked at Sam carefully and nodded. Sam was entrusting his daughter with the same man that hurt her. He didn't take it lightly. "Of course." He raised a brow. "She's not going to like the cold if she wakes up," he warned.

Sam pointed Jack in the direction of the bathroom before he excused himself to tuck Aaron into bed. The boy was still in his winter coat and boots, sprawled out like a starfish on top of the covers.

* * *

Jack surveyed the bathroom. It was squattish with barely enough room for a sink and tub. He ran the water as cool as he thought she could tolerate before he returned to the bedroom.

"Please don't hate me for this, Kate." He mumbled as he removed her clothes. She shivered. Her body was covered with goosebumps. Jack tried not to look at her that way. She was sick for god sakes. But she looked the same. Beautiful and perfect to him. Instead of feeling aroused, he was flooded with concern at the vivid pink blotches on her chest and neck from fever.

He brought her to the bathtub and kneeled next to the pile of towels and washcloths he had stacked for easy access. He guided her body into the tub and fought with her to stay put.

Kate's eyes shot wide open. Her body cold and wet. She didn't know where she was or why her vision was blurred. A bearded man was holding her down in water. She was trying to sit up, but was weak and pinned down

"Get the hell away from me!" she raged, splashing and shouting so loudly that Jack expect Sam to burst in with his shotgun in tow.

"Hey, Kate! It's okay." Jack croaked, nearly sliding on the slippery tile as he tried to steady her. She peered back at him bewildered, like she had never seen him before.

"Let me go!" Her voice held a frantic, desperate air that broke Jack's heart.

The only thing her mind could conjure up was she was being drowned. The strange man was drowning her in a bathtub. Her head pounded and a buzzing sound filled her ears. She tried to yell but her voice was hoarse.

"No! Don't kill me…please!" Her voice cracked. The man was talking to her but her head hurt and she couldn't hear it over the buzzing. Were there bees in the room?

She pushed and tried to spin to the side in an attempt to evade the strong hands that held her down, drowning her in ice.

"Kate." The assailant somehow knew her name. "Kate. It's gonna be okay."

"No!" She splashed hard, making him sputter. The water soaked his thin dress shirt.

Jack heard a knock at the door. "Everything okay in there?" It was Sam. He sounded a little more than worried.

"Yeah. She's awake but doesn't understand what's going on." He paused as Kate grabbed hold of his arm and tried to move it off her body to no avail. Jack closed his eyes and dipped his head. "She's fighting and thinks I'm drowning her."

Kate was shaking like a leaf. Jack could see the tremor in her muscles, the terror in her eyes as he moved closer.

"Kate ... You know me. It's Jack." She was scaring the hell out of him. Jack tried his best to break through the fog surrounding her.

"No!" Kate didn't understand what was happening. "I just n-need...you to...l-leave...me a-alone." She managed through chattering teeth.

She wasn't sure who was talking to her, but she prayed they would put her pants back on soon. Her legs felt like blocks of ice. Her energy was fading too quickly to do it herself. She used her remaining strength to push at the hand that was holding her under. It didn't work. She was so tired and only wanted to sleep. Maybe drowning wouldn't be so bad.

Jack saw her body relax and begin to go limp. He put her head on the slanted back of the tub and grabbed a rolled-up washcloth to tuck under her neck. He took a few more washcloths and soaked them before putting them on her forehead, neck and chest. He used another to wipe her cheeks. Her teeth were chattering as the tears fell. No matter how much she tried to squirm away, she couldn't escape. The intensity of the cold ripped through her.

"Kate, it's only me. It's Jack. I won't hurt you." She didn't look over. Her eyes were glazed. "You have a high fever and we're at your dad's cabin."

Jack set his watch for 15 minutes and felt terrible. Her chin quivered and teeth chattered uncontrollably.

He periodically dipped the washcloths back in the cool water and replaced them. Jack spoke to her for a while, unsure how much good it did her, or if it was more for him.

"This is the last place I thought I would be. It's not that I didn't want to see you and Aaron. It's just… I feel like… I don't deserve to. I ruined everything, Kate. I hurt you. I'm so sorry." His voice was full of remorse.

"You've done an incredible job raising Aaron. I should've been there … He's my nephew. I want to be there but look at me. I lost everything good in my life. And it's all my fault." He shook his head as a few tears fell into the bathtub, disappearing into the cool water. He sniffed before he straightened up and changed her cloths again. Time passed slowly after she settled, surrendering to her icy prison.

He heard the repetitive beep-beep of his timer and reached for the plug to drain the water. Kate twitched and jerked at the sound. Her forehead collided with his temple as she tried to sit up. "The code! Enter the code!" She panted and coughed. "The computer! Or the hatch will blow up!" She had fallen back and tried to get up but failed, being too weak to move. Water sloshed over the side of the tub onto Jack. He cursed under his breath and reached for his watch. He fumbled with it before finally turning the alarm off.

"Fucking alarm." He tossed it onto the bathroom sink. His temple throbbed. Kate's forehead had a red mark where she accidentally hit her head. It might bruise but was superficial.

Jack had her out of the tub and on the bed in no time. He briskly dried her off and dressed her in her pajamas before rolling back the covers and tucking her in. He piled quilts on top of her as she shivered. He noticed a glass of ice water Sam left next to a bottle of Tylenol on the night table.

He propped her up against the overstuffed pillows.

"Come on. You just need to swallow these. They'll help you." His mouth was near his ear as he coaxed her along in a string of soothing whispers.

"I haven't gotten much better at this, but maybe you could give me a break?" He admitted, remembering the last time he and Kate had been in this predicament when Sawyer had gotten shot. She had always been the one with the better bedside manner. As he had told her then, he hadn't learned the old "whisper in the ear trick" in medical school.

He shook Kate a little harder to try and get her alert enough to swallow.

He sighed. "Please wake up. If you take this, it will make you feel better." He palmed two Tylenol and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Kate's eyes opened partly. He put his hand under the back of her neck and tilted her up.

"Open up, Kate." She looked slowly towards him. He put the Tylenol in her mouth and then the straw. She automatically sipped the water, more than he anticipated. She closed her eyes as her lips released the straw. Jack was grateful for small miracles.

Jack thought about how empty his life was and looked at the one person who loved and understood him. Who he left because his addiction came first. She moved and her head rolled so it faced him. A small spark kindled inside of him. What he wouldn't give for a do-over. To go back in time and make the right choices. So many wasted years. But who was he kidding? He was a loser with no job, still taking pills and had nothing and nobody meaningful in his life. How could she ever forgive him, much less take him back?

Jack looked up from his vigil as Sam knocked and entered the room. He saw Kate tucked in and leaned over to feel her forehead before Jack could give an update. He grunted in approval. "Feels cooler already. Looks like she gave you a hell of a fight."

Jack looked puzzled until he glanced down at his attire. His pin-striped dress shirt and dress slacks were still soaked. He shrugged half-heartedly. "I've had worse on my clothes. Comes with the job."

"How is she? Did she wake up?" Sam asked. A hopeful note was in his voice.

"Yes and no. She did but wasn't lucid. She's finally settled down. The fever's taken a lot out of her. Regular Tylenol will keep ahead of it and we need to try and keep her hydrated."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. Jack was soaking wet and looked exhausted.

"I appreciate what you've done for her. I've made up the couch in the living room for you and there's some dry clothes out there as well. I've started a fire so you'll be plenty warm." He looked at Jack meaningfully. If it were up to Jack, he would sleep on the floor next to Kate or in a chair to keep watch. But he had no right and it wasn't his place to argue. He gave Sam a nod and brushed the back of his fingers gently against Kate's cheek before leaving. The gesture wasn't lost on Sam.

Sam stopped him and shook his hand as he walked past. "Glad you came home with us, Jack. Aaron is too. Help yourself to anything in the fridge or pantry. Got cold cuts for sandwiches and other things if you're hungry. We'll check on your flight in the morning."

Jack nodded and gave Kate a final glance before leaving. He went into the living room. The fireplace crackled and the large couch was piled with blankets, a few bed pillows and pajamas. He took it all in and found himself smiling. He had no idea why. He was stuck in the middle of nowhere in a cabin full of people who should have been his family. Maybe it was the fire. Or the prospect of hot coffee and seeing his nephew again. He couldn't pinpoint the reason, but for the first time that night, he was truly grateful Sam offered to bring him home.


	4. Waking Up

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. We appreciate it!_

 _-DimpleCurlAeternaGirl & Tangler_

* * *

When Jack opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a wooden ceiling he didn't recognize. It was likely pine or alder by the way the rafters had turned a honey brown with age. He stared at them for a while, his eyes tracing patterns in knots curling across the slabs of timber.

He sighed and rolled half-way onto his stomach and felt the heavy quilts covering him shift with the movement. He vaguely considered how he ended up on the couch. It was well-worn and far more comfortable than he imagined. He let his body sink into it and wondered if he was having a vivid dream. If he was more awake, he would have marveled at how incredibly peaceful he felt. But the rational part of his mind was drowsy and pliable. The ambience made it easy for him to relax. The room was dark and pleasantly warm. Somewhere, off in the distance, he could hear a fire crackling, a soothing melody that was comforting and familiar from another time and place. It lulled him back to sleep. And, for once, Jack didn't fight it.

The next time Jack woke, it was the same way he had for years. He burst awake in the clutches of a dream already fading from memory. He sat up feeling jittery from the overload of adrenaline. He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to rouse his brain as his heart rate and breathing slowed. Something cold and heavy spread through his chest. It was making him feel unhinged and was a stark reminder why he didn't sleep. Even if he couldn't remember the dream, it still had a hold on him. Jack took a measured breath, feeling like his bones were drenched in ice - nightmare chill. Clonazepam would take the edge off. It was cheaper than Percocet and settled his nerves when he used Scotch as a chaser. The pills were in his coat pocket.

He stood slowly, trying to shake the tense, keyed-up feeling coiling in his muscles. His coat was on top of his briefcase and the pill bottle carefully stowed in the inner pocket. He shook a handful into his palm and dry swallowed them, wincing at the bitter taste the residue left on his tongue.

"How do you take your coffee, Jack?"

Jack coughed and almost jumped out of his skin. He whipped his neck around to see Sam watching him from the kitchen. He had a coffee mug in hand and yesterday's newspaper spread across the table.

"Sorry, Son. It's early. I didn't mean to wake you. I know you were up half the night checking on Katie." Sam tactfully deflected, but the look in his eyes hinted he had been observing Jack for a while.

"Black. Thank you," Jack mumbled and unconsciously ran his hand along the nape of his neck. A flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks.

During the night, one of the pillows he had been using found its way to the floor. Jack picked it up and occupied himself with folding the quilts on the couch. It was an excuse to turn his back to Sam, who was retrieving another mug from the cupboard. He slipped the bottle back into his pocket when he was sure Kate's father wasn't looking.

Jack sighed, feeling awkward in the faded gray t-shirt and navy pajama bottoms Sam lent him. He glanced at the chair in the far corner and noticed a similar bundle. A black and red plaid shirt was folded on top of a pair of jeans, a white, crew-neck t-shirt and socks. A can of shaving cream, clippers, and razor were tactfully placed next to the items.

"Nobody's getting anywhere in this storm." Sam set Jack's mug of coffee down on the end table next to the lamp. He took a long sip from his own mug. "Blizzard warning is over, but the highway into the city is closed down until conditions improve."

Jack nodded. The far wall of the living room was mostly glass. On clear days, it provided a spectacular view of the Rockies. Today, all that could be seen was a whitewash of snow piled high against the window panes. It bathed the room in a cool, blue light, making Sam grimace. His back was still sore from last week's snowfall.

"It's going to take a while for them to open the highway." Sam didn't relish the thought of clearing his own driveway, but it was a part of mountain life. "Still waiting for the winds to drop off before I tackle that mess."

Jack reached for his own coffee, needing something to rinse the bitter taste out of his mouth. He gripped the handle of the mug and saw how badly his hands were shaking. He quickly set it down again before Sam noticed.

"Kate's due for more Tylenol. Her fever spiked again so gave I gave her a dose at 3 a.m. She settled down afterwards." He spoke in the calmest voice he could muster, but his mind was racing. He wasn't going anywhere until the roads cleared. _What if Sam finds out about the pills?_ _Did he see me with the bottle? How is Kate going to react to my being here?_ A feeling of dread washed over him.

Sam nodded, his blue eyes appraising Jack. He saw the tremor in the man's hands.

Jack busied himself with examining the bundle Sam laid out for him. It was more than clothes. It was an unspoken suggestion. Or command. Jack wasn't going to argue. He was anxious to escape the older man's scrutiny and needed time for the pills to kick in and suppress his anxiety.

"Do you mind if I clean up?" Jack scooped the items up.

"Not at all. Bathroom is the last door on the right." Sam watched Jack retreat, his shoulders slumped. He could tell the man was in a hurry to get away and knew it was more than the "meeting-the-father-of-your-ex" jitters. He fully expected Jack to "clean up" properly and stop hiding behind the beard and hair while under his roof. He was curious and wanted to get to know Aaron's dad better. He sipped his coffee and returned to his paper.

* * *

Aaron woke with a start. He sat up quickly and saw the frost covering the window panes, obscuring his view of the outdoors. They were at the cabin! He smiled, clambered out of bed and raced down the hall in his pajamas and socks. His grandpa sat at the kitchen table, grinning as he came into view.

"Grandpa!" Aaron launched himself into Sam's open arms. Sam had to brace himself slightly for the impact, despite being strong and in good shape for his age.

"Good morning, Scout! How's my favorite grandson?" Sam looked mischevious as he ruffled Aaron's frowzy, blonde hair.

"I'm your _only_ grandson." Aaron pronounced, used to the familiar exchange.

"Well, how do you know that?" Sam asked as he stood. He put his hands on his hips and leaned over a bit as Aaron looked up.

"Because Mom's your only kid. Just like I'm _her_ only kid." Aaron sat down at the table and watched as Sam went to the stove where breakfast items were laid out.

Sam leaned casually against the counter after turning on the burners, waiting for the pans to heat up. "Can't beat that logic. After your mom was born, I figured, why mess with perfection? She's exactly what I wanted. You want your eggs scrambled?"

"Yes, Grandpa." He sat patiently for the moment, still waking up. Sam set a glass of orange juice in front of him as Aaron stretched and yawned. "Does Mom feel the same about me?"

Sam frowned in concentration, considering before answering. "Well …. Could be. But your mom is still young enough to give you a brother or sister. If she does, maybe it's because you make her so happy, she wants another just like you." Sam shrugged and wiggled his eyebrows, making Aaron giggle.

Aaron suddenly froze and looked around. "Jack!" He stood up and saw the blankets folded and piled neatly on the couch. He felt frantic until he saw Jack's suit coat and briefcase on the chair. "Where is he, Grandpa?"

Sam saw the panic on Aaron's face before he figured out Jack was still there. It tugged at his old heart. The boy wanted his father. It only intensified Sam's need to know Jack better.

"He's taking a shower. He'll join us when he's done." Sam scrambled eggs and tossed some bacon into a grill pan on another burner. "Do you like your bacon crispy or burned?" He teased.

"Crispy, please." Aaron grinned, his white teeth showing. He tiptoed over to the bedroom door adjacent to the living room and slipped in when Sam's back was turned. Aaron approached the bed slowly. His mom was asleep. Her cheeks were pink and face was white. He bit his lip, wanting to crawl in bed and curl up with her, the same way she did when he was sick or felt afraid. But he was 10 years old now.

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Sam put his finger to his lips and motioned for Aaron to follow him. They returned to the kitchen. Aaron's face fell slightly. "Is she still sick?"

"Yes. She needs her rest. And we don't want you to get sick. Understand?" Sam was on one knee when he spoke so he was face to face with Aaron. Aaron nodded solemnly until Sam poked his belly. He briefly erupted into giggles and squirmed. "Good. Now let's fill that stomach of yours. We have plenty to do today."

* * *

Jack felt better after his shower. His hands stopped shaking. The hefty dose of Clonazepam blunted his anxiety, leaving him calm and somewhat numb. He knew he'd have to ration what was left of his supply, embarrassed he needed to use it all. The last thing he wanted was to have a seizure in Sam's goddamn living room because he managed to put himself into alcohol withdrawal. The Clonazepam lowered his risk. He had been taking it for so long he was still reasonably functional when he was sober.

Jack dressed in the jeans and flannel shirt, trying to push his problems to the back of his mind. It would only be another day or two. Then he wouldn't have to worry about what anyone else thought of him. Kate and Aaron didn't need to be around an addict.

He shuffled in front of the mirror, peering at his face for the first time in a long time. He used his bathroom mirror to brush his teeth, but tried to avoid examining his reflection. He was ashamed. The beard made him look old. It was a combination of dark hair flecked with streaks of grey. And his hair was overgrown. He put the wastebasket in the sink before plugging in the clippers to trim it down. As the facial hair fell into the basket, he began to see patches of pale, white skin. He would finish it with the razor.

He snapped a #4 guard on the clippers after deciding to buzz his hair. He put his chin on his chest as he ran it over the back of his head in even strokes, hopefully getting it all.

Fifteen minutes later, he was staring at the mirror. He looked more like himself but different at the same time. His face was leaner and eyes had shadows under them. He ran his hand over his head again to make sure he didn't miss anything. The bristles felt good under his fingertips. He examined the mess he made and immediately began to clean it up. To his relief, there were cleaning products under the sink. He saw how neat the cabin was and knew Sam was in the army his entire career.

It was spotless in the nick of time.

There was a knock on the door. "Jack?" It was Aaron.

Jack was deep in thought, staring at his reflection again. He could almost see the man he used to be. And it took him by surprise.

"Jack?" His voice had an edge of desperation.

Jack swung the door open, worried something was wrong with Kate. Instead, he saw Aaron hopping from one foot to another, a big smile on his face.

Aaron tackled Jack and hugged him around the waist before rushing past. "I gotta pee!"

* * *

Jack sat next to Kate on the bed, noting she barely moved since the last time he checked on her. She was laying on her side, curled up in a ball and still feverish. He coaxed her into take two more Tylenol and drinking water to wash it down by whispering words of encouragement. She opened her bloodshot eyes briefly but didn't seem to recognize him.

He sighed and covered her with a heavy quilt. Her fever wasn't as high as the previous evening, but it hadn't broken. He wasn't used to seeing her so helpless. It was usually Kate taking care of everyone else. Even him in the past. He had no idea how she would react to his being there. If she was mad at him, he would take it. He deserved her wrath and more. But it was also worth the risk to be able to help her for once.

Jack hung his head and left the room. He was ready to admit how much he missed her.

Sam was cleaning up the pans in the kitchen. A plate was on the table loaded with eggs and bacon adjacent to a fresh cup of black coffee. Aaron was waiting for him, barely able to hold still. He wrapped his arms around Jack's waist again. "Is Mom okay?"

Jack tentatively touched Aaron's hair before smoothing it back, noticing it was now neatly combed. "She will be. We need to let her sleep."

Sam intervened. "Hey, Scout. He needs to eat some breakfast. Help yourself, Jack." He didn't say anything about Jack's clean-cut appearance but approved. It made him looked at least ten years younger.

Jack sat, feeling awkward. He couldn't remember the last time he ate breakfast, let alone someone making it for him. It was before he left Kate. But breakfast in bed had always been his job and pleasure to serve.

He ate and was surprised at his own appetite. He enjoyed the coffee and noticed Aaron sitting quietly while beaming at him. "You look happy. Did Santa come already?"

Aaron smiled wider but didn't reveal his secret. "It isn't Christmas yet." He watched as his grandpa topped off Jack's coffee and sat down with a cup of his own. "There's a lot of snow here. Grandpa has sleds and a four-wheeler. He also has shovels, a snow blower and man jobs for us to do."

His last comment forced a chuckle out of Jack. "Don't let your Mom here the word 'man jobs,' Aaron. She's more capable and tougher than most grown men." Aaron's eyes grew big. "Ever see her climb a tree?" Aaron shook his head slightly, his mouth agape.

Jack heard Sam laugh softly. "I thought she grew out of that."

Jack shook his head as he took another bite, chewing and swallowing before answering. "On the island…" Jack stopped suddenly, wishing he could retract the last three words. He couldn't let his guard down and contradict The Lie.

Sam saw Jack freeze and heard him suck in his breath. He knew they had been to hell and back when stranded out there. Katie never spoke of it, the hardships or giving birth on the island. And she never made Sam feel guilty for not meeting her at the tarmac when she arrived. He was unreachable at the time: on a mission with his troop in the mountains of Afghanistan. He knew they experienced trauma, but didn't know how it affected Jack.

The silence left Aaron with a slew of questions.

"Your mom learned how to climb when she was smaller than you, Scout." Sam spoke up to take the pressure off of Jack. Sam saw Jack's shoulders slump in relief. "I used to call her 'Katydid' after the bug. Have you ever seen one?"

Aaron shook his head. His attention was captivated.

"She was a tiny girl, but strong and could climb like a monkey. She wanted to wear camouflage like me when we went hiking and tracking animals. Katie could climb trees fast and disappear in the leaves. A katydid is a green bug that looks just like a leaf when it holds still. It's a disguise so birds don't eat them."

Sam stood and asked Aaron to go brush his teeth. He shook his head as he watched his grandson race out of the room. "Just like his mom. Only one speed as a child: Fast."

Jack smiled at the comment and story about Kate, grateful Sam took over the conversation.

"Come on." Sam clapped Jack on the shoulder and was surprised when the man jumped. He didn't lift his hand until Jack relaxed.

Jack wasn't used to regular human contact. It had been years since anyone had been close to him.

Sam spoke calmly to him, the same way he would to a skittish horse. "I need your help with something."

* * *

Jack found himself following Sam down the makeshift footpath to the shed behind the cabin. Sam gave Aaron the task of clearing the front steps, which Aaron tackled with enthusiasm. It was his first time shoveling snow. He was eager to start his first "man job."

Jack lingered in the doorway, keeping his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. He felt like an intruder, watching as Sam poured gasoline into his snow blower.

The shed was chilly but had a clean, wooden tool bench with tools hanging from a peg board on the wall. The brisk weather muted the scents embedded in the structure. Decades of oil, gas, grease. Jack could tell where Sam had organized it with military precision and areas waiting for his touch from the stark contrast.

Sam left the door open so that the light spilled in. He had to dig his way through the snow earlier to reach it. Jack could see where the wood left drag marks under his feet.

He glanced at Jack, who shivered. "When's the last time you were in the mountains, Jack?" His tone was even and almost friendly.

Jack had to think. The last seven years were blur of pills and booze. He looked down, trying to remember. He kicked some snow with the boots he borrowed from Sam. "Lake Tahoe. My Dad had a cabin." He paused and drew in the clean, crisp air. "We used to go every summer when I was a kid and in the winter to ski."

Sam nodded appreciatively. "Must have been nice. Does he still own it?"

Jack tried to remember the trips when he was little. He fished in Lake Tahoe or rafted on the Truckee River. In the winter, he played in the snow with kids from the cabin next door. An instructor taught him to ski at Squaw Creek Resort, the slopes closest to the family cabin. He didn't recall spending much time with his parents except at mealtime. When he got older, he usually brought Marc or another friend. The teens did their best to escape his dad's scrutiny and blow off steam. His dad started ratcheting up the pressure on Jack with his grades and study habits during middle school.

"No. He died. I let a property rental company manage it. I haven't been there in years." Jack let out a self-deprecating laugh while looking at the ground. _There was no point,_ he thought morosely. For the longest time, he dreamed of surprising Kate with a weekend getaway but never managed to make it happen. Going up there now would only amplify his loneliness. It was meant for a family to enjoy … His family. The one he lost.

"Sorry to hear about your dad. Here. Untangle this for me." He tossed him a fifty-foot extension cord. "I haven't gotten around to coiling it properly yet." Sam went back to examining the snow blower before he resumed talking. "I moved around and was stationed at different military bases. Katie was a military brat until she was five. Her Ma put her foot down then and insisted on going home, back to Iowa."

He paused and cleared his throat. "I picked Katie up whenever I was on leave or stationed in the states. Would take her hiking, fishing, hunting. She loved it but refused to eat anything we caught. She always tossed the fish she caught back into the water. Even tossed mine back when I wasn't looking." He shook his head and smiled fondly at the memory.

Jack began to work on the knots and kinks. "Kate's skills and courage were a big reason why I … we survived. She helped anyone in need." His voice dropped slightly and had an edge of disapproval. "Even if it meant putting herself at risk."

Sam head turned. He took in Jack's expression, the frown and lips pressed together in disapproval, and let out a guffaw. "Yeah. That sounds like my girl. She's stubborn. You can't tell her no when she has her mind set on something." He took in a deep breath and stopped a moment, thanking his lucky stars she and his grandson survived.

Katie never told him why they broke off the engagement. She didn't have a bad thing to say about Jack. Jack seemed nervous around him, like a high school kid, but he didn't mind keeping the man on his toes until he got a better feel for him. Jack reminded Sam of men he served with who came down with PTSD. It was hard losing a soldier in your company, troop or platoon. A friend, a brother-in-arms, a soldier following your orders ... Death weighed on the soldiers and commanding officers.

He didn't like sticking his nose in people's business but felt compelled to say something. "I imagine it was hard to losing the other survivors on the island."

Jack's head swiveled suddenly towards him with a look of shock. _How does he know?_ Everyone on the island, dead or alive, came to mind. It wasn't until he met Sam's eyes he understood the referral to The Lie. The loss of Boone, Charlie and Libby. He was speechless.

Sam saw how he reacted. He reached down to grease the belt before locking eyes with him again. "Also with your line of work as surgeon. It must take its toll, losing people you feel responsible for. I understand. I've lost men who were following my orders, and before that, friends who fought by my side." He was steady as he spoke. "Some of the strongest soldiers I've known … it got to them. The guilt. They got caught in a mental loop, replaying the battles and horror in their minds. Some turned into shells of themselves, their minds stuck in the past, thinking it was their fault." He shook his head. "I don't judge them. Or anyone else who needs help letting go of the past and pain. The way I got through it was moving forward. The best way to honor the fallen is to live. Not just exist. You need hope, goals, something to live for and look forward to. I had Katie. She was my good luck charm. I carried a picture of her in my pocket at all times when deployed, even during battle."

Jack listened, but his fingers slowed down as he straightened out the cord. He let out a puff of air, visible in the cold. Words were drawn out of his conscience by the older man. Words rooted deeply in his brain like weeds. "No medical facilities. No equipment to treat them with. I should have saved them. It's my fault."

Sam nodded in understanding. "It's not your fault, Jack. It was their time to go. You have to honor that. It was out of your control. And if you don't mind me saying, you are focused on the wrong thing."

Jack lifted a brow, wondering what Sam meant.

"Six of you _did_ survive the impossible including a newborn baby." Sam took off his cap with wool lining, and ran his hand over his buzzed, white hair before replacing it. "Do you believe in a higher power, Jack?"

Jack was reeling. He hadn't conversed like this with anyone for a long time. "I don't know. My parents went to church on Christmas Eve when I was young, but…" He shrugged.

"I do. Not a church-goer myself either, except when Katie was little. I took her to Sunday school and Mass. This could be coincidence, but something tells me it isn't. The craziest thing happened when the six of you showed up. It was a miracle. 108 days missing and there you all were." He leaned back slightly on the workbench. "I was in the middle-east when I got the news. I'm not ashamed to say I cried. I got my daughter back, a second chance with her and a fine grandson to boot. But the kicker is, of all the people on the planet, one of the other survivors is someone I came across when deployed. Katie was a teenager at the time. What are the odds he would survive out of 324 passengers? Or even be on the same plane?" He looked off into the vast, white landscape outside. It was broken only by patches of blue sky above and pine trees poking out of the deep drifts of snow.

Jack knew who it was. "Sayid. He was a valuable member of our group."

Sam turned to him with an unwavering stare. "This is classified information, Jack. I'm going to have to kill you after this conversation."

Jack froze, unsure if Sam was serious. Hell, they were in the middle of nowhere. Who would know?

Sam began to laugh. "Lighten up, Son. I'm only pulling your leg. I don't know what I'm trying to say. Just that I'm grateful for second chances. And don't want to waste the time I have left, especially dwelling on the past. I don't think any of this is coincidence. What were the odds you would be on the exact same plane from L.A. to Calgary when Katie needed you?" He fixed Jack with a long, meaningful stare before smiling and adjusting his cap. "I'll take the cord now." Jack looked down and saw it was untangled. He quickly handed it over. "Do you know how to split wood?"

Jack found himself grinning. "Actually, I do."

"A city boy who chops wood?" He whistled through his teeth. "Now I've heard everything. You surprise me, Jack." Sam said with approval. He pointed. "Axe is on the hook and the wood pile and block are around the corner of the shed. Work gloves are here if you need them." He tossed Jack a pair with traction on the palms.

* * *

Jack strode out with the axe, found the block and was soon hewing away. Sam's approval ignited something in his chest. His mind percolated. He replayed their conversation in his head. Moving forward. Living. Second chances. Sayid and Calgary. No coincidences. The words played through his head as he drew the axe back and brought it down, slicing cleanly through the wood.

An old memory surfaced. John Locke. He said they were brought to the island for a reason. Jack argued with him but Locke's believed in fate. Was it fate that transferred him to the Calgary flight? He tried to wrap his head around the concept as he balanced another log and drove the axe blade through it. His back, arm and abdominal muscles were beginning to burn.

Jack had wasted so much time since he and Kate separated. It didn't do him any good. It wasn't good for _any_ of them. He couldn't move on. She obviously didn't either. And the pain… Instead of dealing with it and letting go, Jack did whatever he could to escape it. He brought the axe down hard in frustration, watching the wood splinter off the block. He loaded another piece after pausing to examine it. It felt good to be doing something with his hands.

Aaron finished shoveling the steps and held the shovel. The handle was only a few inches shorter than him. He was warm but his cheeks were slightly chilled and rosy and he could see his breath. He blew out a big puff, pretending he was a dragon and tried to blow smoke rings to no avail.

When he was finished, he stomped through the snow and dragged the shovel behind him, making his way to the shed. He heard chopping sounds and picked up speed, the shovel bouncing on the uneven snow behind him.

He made a beeline for the shed. His grandpa was inside working on the snow blower. Aaron dropped off the shovel by the door and hopped one step at a time in the large, deep boot prints in the snow. They led him to Jack.

Aaron stopped and kept his distance, watching as Jack place a piece of wood on leveled stump. He swung the axe high and hard, coming down and splitting it down the middle. Jack grunted from the effort and took the two pieces, tossing them into the growing pile. Aaron was impressed.

Jack saw him. Two blue, wide eyes met his. Aaron's mouth was in an "Oh" shape. Jack stood up straight and arched his back slightly to stretch it while leaning on the axe handle.

"Can I help?" Aaron imagined himself chopping wood. He had never seen anyone do it in person and wanted to try.

Jack raised a brow. "Not until you're older." He reached over and grabbed another piece of cut wood to split. "Stay there, Aaron. I don't want you getting hurt."

Aaron's face fell, but he perked up as he watched Jack split wood. Jack fell into an easy rhythm again. The pile grew even larger.

Jack broke out in a mild sweat from the exertion. He wiped his forehead and adjusted his woolen hat. "You all done with your chores?"

Aaron nodded. "Yes."

"Let's find out where your grandpa wants this wood and you can help me stack it."

Aaron's heart leapt at the prospect of doing something with Jack. He raced around the corner and grabbed the snow shovel as his grandpa turned to see him. "What's the hurry, Scout?"

"I'm done with the steps, Grandpa. Jack said I can help him stack wood if you tell him where to put it."

Sam saw the eager look on his grandson's face. He was brimming with excitement. "I'm sure you'll be a big help. Firewood rack is on the porch under the brown tarp." Aaron turned to run back. Sam called out to him. "Put the shovel back in its place first. We clean up our tools when we're done with a job."

Aaron swiveled and ran, hanging it on a hook on the wall before flashing Sam a smile and sprinting around the corner. Sam shook his head and laughed to himself. "One speed only."

* * *

The sun was low in the sky by the time Sam had managed to clear the driveway for a second time in less than a week. As much as he enjoyed his time in the mountains, his age was catching up with him and his back ached from the exertion. He wheeled the snow blower back into the shed and secured the heavy wooden door with its padlock. The sky had changed from gray to bright blue, but the wind was cold. The fading light glinted off the icy tree branches.

Sam rubbed his hands together, trudging a trail back to the front porch. He needed to check on Katie and put on a pot of soup for supper. If she was alert enough, he could try to feed her some broth. And he had fresh bread from the bakery in town. Banff was a good twenty-minute drive from the highway, but was a tourist town and well-stocked.

"Oh, come on, Jack! You must have built one before." He heard Aaron call out as he rounded the corner. He hadn't seen much of his grandson since he had scampered off to help Jack stack wood.

"How many snowmen have you built in California?" Jack's tone was amused. Sam paused while watching them stand in the middle of what used to be his lawn.

Aaron shrugged his shoulders and scooped a pile of snow into his arms. "Let's try it."

Jack froze, painfully aware of the look of expectation in Aaron's eyes. It was a reminder of all the things he had walked away from. If Aaron knew he was the reason his biological mother didn't make it off the island, same as the other survivors, he was sure the boy would hate him. She vanished. Then the island disappeared. Aaron had no idea how hard he tried to get back, but he failed.

Jack thought of the desperate nights he wound up in a drunken stupor and begged Kate to meet him at the airport. Day after day he forced her to watch him deteriorate into a shadow of himself. The man who was her friend, lover, fiancé and father-figure to Aaron slowly retreated into a shell until he wasn't recognizable. He dug a hole so deep he couldn't get out of it and lost the will to try. He followed in his father's footsteps: Broken, hopeless and waiting for the inevitable.

Something hard and cold hit Jack in the face and spattered. It startled him. When he surveyed the yard, he spotted his assailant.

Aaron shifted nervously from foot to foot. His boots made a crunching sound in the snow.

Jack's expression was unreadable. Aaron's smile faded under Jack's intense stare as he wiped snow off his face. Aaron shut his eyes, bracing himself for Jack to scold him. When no reprimand came, he opened them.

Jack had crouched and scooped up a handful of snow. Aaron grinned, ducking as the man launched the ball at him.

"You missed!" Aaron exclaimed He had played enough Call of Duty with Spencer to know how to dodge an attack. He heard Jack laugh briefly as he formed a snowball of his own. The heat from his hands caused the outer layer to crust as he held it while retreating. He took off, trying to put as much distance between himself and Jack as possible. The snow was deep and he wasn't used to the way his boots sank in the heavy drift. It slowed him down enough for Jack to land one between his shoulder blades.

"I missed? I don't think so." Jack gauged Aaron's reaction to getting pasted in the back. Aaron took advantage of Jack's lack of movement, sending his snowball sailing in a wide arc that soared over Jack's head. He brought his hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the last of the sunlight as he watched the snowball crash against the side of a tree.

"That's quite a pitching arm you got there." Jack clapped his gloved hands few times in appreciation. He could tell Aaron wanted to play and finally caved in. "Want to have a throwing contest? We can use the tree as a target."

Aaron jumped up and down at the prospect and pumped his fist. "Yeah! Let's make a pile of snowballs first!"

Jack took long strides over to join Aaron, squatting while showing him how to make baseball-sized snowballs with an outer crust of ice. The snow was still powdery and didn't stick as well without a little ingenuity.

Sam smirked and shook his head. Jack seemed like a good guy. It reenforced bringing him home was the right thing to do, especially for Aaron. He only hoped his daughter would feel the same. He slipped inside the cabin without them noticing.

* * *

Kate felt damp and sticky. She was resting, but where? Her eyelids were heavy. She struggled to open them. She saw a splash of green and she groaned. She was in the spot where she and Jack first kissed. She didn't know how she ended up sleeping there instead of her tent. The place served as a reminder of how the kiss ended. She ran, not feeling good enough for Jack at the time. Past and present were stalled in her brain as she tried to wake up, wondering if he'd know she was there. He was so good at reading her. She didn't credit his tracking skills as the reason he found her. It was something else. Like he was drawn there. She half-smiled, thinking how different things would be if he found her this time.

Kate eventually stopped struggling. Her thoughts slowed down as she drifted back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Something cool rested on her forehead. Kate felt it as she tried to wake again. Had it been hours? Days? She had a pulsating headache emanating from the back of her skull. Her mouth was dry as if it was stuffed with cotton. Kate struggled harder to wake and managed to roll on her side. The wet cloth on her forehead slid off. Her eyes popped open.

Where the hell was she?

The room was dimly lit but her eyes adjusted. It was small and contained a wood dresser. It appeared to be the same shade of pine as the paneling on the wall. She spotted her suitcase, propped against the night table beside the bed.

Kate covered her eyes briefly with her fingertips, massaging them with the lightest touch. Something tickled the recesses of her memory, but the pieces were fragmented. She was on the plane with Aaron. They were flying to visit her dad's cabin for Christmas.

Laughter reached her ear. Muted voices conversed with pauses in between.

She sat up slowly. Her pajamas clung to her skin, drenched with patches of sweat. She felt dizzy. Grey spots danced before her eyes. She dragged her legs and dangled them over the side of the bed. When she slid off, her bare feet landed on a plush rug. The room tilted slightly. Her legs felt like jello, but it didn't stop her. She leaned heavily against the bed with one hand and made her way to the wedge of light slipping through the cracked door. Her steps were small. She couldn't remember feeling so weak. She grabbed the doorknob and opened it slowly.

Kate was relieved to see her dad in the kitchen. He was focused on stirring a large pot on the stove and didn't notice her.

Another burst of soft laughter distracted her. She clung to the door frame weakly. It was coming from living room, past the back of the couch. She could barely see the top of two heads illuminated by the flames in the fireplace and recognized Aaron's voice when he spoke.

"Your turn! They don't make us memorize that stuff. And at school, they don't say 'Christmas' either. They say 'Winter Holiday.'"

There was a pause before a deep voice answered. "So _that's_ your excuse for not knowing the names Santa's reindeer? Their names are at the beginning of the 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer' song."

"No, they aren't! I know _that_ one!"

"Yes, they are. Haven't you seen Rudolph on t.v.? The one with the animated figures? It was my favorite Christmas show when I was a boy. The snowman with the green vest and hat sings it."

Aaron huffed in response. "That show is for babies. I'm big now." There was a familiar tapping noise followed by the clinking of hard plastic. "Ha! I took _two_ of your pieces, Jack. King me!" Two small hands shot up in the air to celebrate his victory.

Kate gasped when she heard his name. It felt like water was coursing through her veins. She bent over and braced her hands on her knees to stave off dizziness and coughed. What she didn't see was Aaron and Jack jumping to their feet. A utensil clattered on the stove. Sam was instantly by her side, bent over while trying to push the hair out of her face.

"Katie! You shouldn't be out of bed." He stood up with a grimace and pulled her into his embrace. Kate's small frame was engulfed in his arms. He pulled back slightly to examine her face. "Do you know where you are, honey?"

Kate's eyes were wide. She nodded slowly before trying to speak. "What happened?" Her voice was hoarse and registered barely above a whisper.

Sam's brows knitted together as he took in her appearance. She was exhausted and drenched. Even her hair felt damp. Her head turned towards the footsteps racing over.

"Mom! You're awake! Are you feeling better?" Aaron wanted to throw his arms around her but was restrained by Jack's hand sliding around his chest.

"Hang on, buddy. You're a strong guy and need to be gentle with her." Jack turned his attention from Aaron to Kate. He felt nervous about how she was going to react to his being there. Her green eyes were lucid, but she stared at him as if he was a ghost. From what he could see, the fever had broken but she wasn't steady on her feet. Aaron walked over and hugged her. She patted his back languidly.

It dawned on Kate she was at her dad's cabin. But Jack…? _What is he doing here?_ He was sober, groomed and wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. The beard and thick, uneven hair he sported for years was gone. She was looking at _her_ Jack. She closed her eyes and slowly opened them, expecting him to disappear or have the disheveled appearance again. The shock of his presence coupled with weakness delayed any emotional response.

"Mom, it's us." Aaron backed up and slipped his hand into Jack's large one. He tipped his head back to look at him. "Is she still sick? Does she still think we're on Mars with a smoke monster?"

Jack didn't want to overstep any boundaries but could see she was faltering. "Your dad's right. You should be in bed." He didn't want Sam to strain his back. He noticed Sam was favoring it after he and Aaron returned to the cabin, but the man refused to talk about it. And he waved off Jack's attempt to help prepare dinner.

Kate didn't respond. Instead, she bit the side of her lip. She was beginning to question her sanity.

"May I?" Jack asked both Sam and Kate indicating his head towards her.

Sam didn't hesitate. He gave Jack the nod. Within seconds, Kate was cradled in Jack's arms and quickly placed back in bed. Her lack of resistance or words, claiming she was "fine," spoke volumes. She was barely out of the woods. He grabbed a few pillows to prop her upright and turned on the bedside lamp. Jack felt her forehead. It was cool. He snared the blankets and covered her before backing away and leaving the room. Her eyes trailed after him before settling on Sam. He sat down next to her.

"You had me worried, Katie. You've been running a high fever." He took both hands and squeezed her shoulders gently before feeling her forehead with the back of his hand, same as Jack. She gave him a puzzled look. She rubbed her eyes and grimaced, her head pounding.

"Jack?" She whispered, wanting to know how he got there.

He reappeared with a glass of water, as if on cue. She saw Aaron on his heels, as if he was tethered to Jack. She didn't know how she felt about Jack's presence. But he wasn't himself, the self-destructing Jack. This wasn't the man who gouged a hole in her chest when he left, leaving nothing but a jagged, gaping space. Or was he?

The glass was at her lips. She sipped slowly. Sam's blue eyes searched hers, still worried. She stopped and let the cool water dampen her mouth before swallowing again.

Jack felt uneasy. He wasn't sure if she was oriented. If she was, would she give him the cold shoulder? Tell him to leave? He deserved it but his gut told him she wouldn't. As long as she didn't know about the pills. Guilt started to gnaw at him. Part of him wanted to escape to the other room. But the other part wanted to stay. To top it off, Aaron had wrapped his arms around his waist. Jack didn't realize it, but he was patting Aaron's back absentmindedly.

Kate watched them both in astonishment.

"I'll give you two some privacy." Jack said quietly. He could see the questions in Kate's eyes. Questions Sam should answer.

Aaron's grip on him tightened. He pressed his forehead into Jack's side. "No! What if she starts seeing things again, Jack?" He grabbed two fists full of the bottom of Jack's shirt. "You gotta make her better." His eyes welled up, pleading with him to do something.

"She's getting better, Aaron. Her fever's gone. We need to give her privacy in case she wants to change or go to the bathroom."

Aaron blanched. He knew about females and privacy. That's why he avoided his mom's bathroom cabinets. There were lady products there; pads and boxes of things he didn't want to touch or see. He scrunched up his face briefly, still clinging to Jack.

"Let's go stir the soup your grandpa is making and finish our game. I'm looking forward to winning this time." Jack felt Aaron's grip relax before releasing him.

"Okay, but you're getting pwned. I already have three kings." Aaron gloated.

"Pwned?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. 'Pwn' means I'm kicking your butt." Aaron gave him a cheeky grin. He went to his mom first and felt her forehead with the back of his hand, same as Jack and Sam, before kissing her gently on the cheek. "I'll be in the other room if you need my help, Mom." He was so earnest and sweet, Kate felt like her heart was going to burst. She and Jack locked eyes. He gave her a small smile and followed Aaron out.

Her head was reeling. Jack was talking and playing with Aaron. Jack was … Jack. She winced and rubbed her temples. It was like seeing someone raised from the dead.

"Headache?" Sam recognized the gestures. She still didn't react to Jack's being there. If anything, she looked bewildered.

Kate nodded. He took two Tylenol from the bottle on the nightstand and handed them to her with the glass of water. She let them rest on her tongue a second before washing them down. "Dad. What happened?" She repeated her question with a raspy voice. "Jack…?"

His eyes observed her carefully as he stood. "Let me get you some soup first. If you eat ... I'll explain."

Kate assented with a brief nod and watched him leave the room. She laid back and looked at the ceiling before closing her eyes. _Is this another dream?_ If so, she wasn't sure if she wanted to wake up.


	5. Frozen

Kate's mind was reeling. She emerged from the dark room to find her world topsy-turvy. She was pensive and sat up in bed, aided by pillows. Her skin was still flushed from Jack's arms being wrapped under her knees and around her back. His hands rested gently on her, leaving invisible, indelible marks. It had been so long. She clasped the covers and pulled them up to her chest. _He_ 's _here_. She covered her eyes with her fingertips and massaged them slowly. Her mind was sluggish, slow to yield questions.

 _How did he get here?_ She bit her thumb pad hard as she contemplated. Was he really sober and spending time with Aaron or was this just another fever dream?

Over the years, Kate had compartmentalized her feelings about Jack. It was a survival mechanism to help her function and, more importantly, to provide Aaron with a stable home. Failing her son was not an option.

The sealed box inside her chest threatened to spill over. It contained sorrow, disappointment, and pain from utter loss - losing Jack. She was convinced he would never put her or their relationship first. There would always be something more important to him. Yet she still loved him deeply. Sure, she tried dating but eventually gave up. She compared other men to him and each fell short. There was no instant familiarity, much less the ability to connect on all levels. Or communication without words. Jack ruined her for anyone else. It was him or nobody. She didn't relish being single, but had been most of her adult life.

Kate became resigned. Her life revolved around raising Aaron, setting up or hosting playdates, volunteering at school, taking him to activities and adjusting to his needs as he got older. Aaron anchored her to life and gave it meaning. Her son was the reason she stopped running and put down roots after they were rescued. He did something no man could at the tender age of 2 months: he retired her running shoes. It was something she willingly sacrificed. Aaron altered her perspective and matured Kate. His needs came first.

The only thing missing was Jack. He was a phantom pain, a part of her cruelly ripped away. The ache reminded her of their plans: marriage, more children and growing old together. It all was obliterated when he turned his back, walked out their front door and let addiction consume him. Hope flickered and died. The left side of the bed mirrored her heart: empty and cold. Wiped out. Erased. Like the island and the other Oceanic 815 survivors including Claire. It was just her, Aaron and their make-shift family consisting of Sam and friends.

Ten years ago, after they were rescued, Kate held on to hope Aaron's biological mom would turn up. Claire was a close friend. But it faded as the years passed. Friends left behind on the mysterious island were either dead or gone. Grief for them was sealed in a separate compartment in her heart. Kate wouldn't allow despair to take over. She committed her life to raising Aaron and planned to tell him about Claire when he was ready. She wasn't going to let him feel betrayed like she did at age 24. She discovered her low-life step-dad, Wayne, was her biological father. The thing that tipped her off was an old photograph of Diane. She was 4 months pregnant while Sam was deployed in Korea. He had been gone almost a year.

For Aaron's sake and Claire's, she tried to reach Claire's mother when he was three. Carole Littleton had shown up at Christian Shephard's memorial service when Aaron was 10 months old. Kate was struggling with "The Lie" after Jack left them. Enough time had passed with no sign of or threats from Charles Widmore. Kate banked on Carole's love for Claire to maintain secrecy and protect Aaron. She was devastated when she received the news. Carole Littleton had passed away from an aneurysm. She died without knowing she had a grandson. Kate tucked regret away, knowing it would eat at her if she dwelled it. The less there was of her, the less she had to give Aaron.

Tears dampened her cheeks. She wiped them hastily with her pajama sleeves, determined not to cry in front of Sam.

The door swung open. Sam entered balancing a food tray. "Katie?" He took in her small form and noted her red eyes. "What's wrong?"

Kate's lungs tightened as if in a vice. She drew in a breath and counted to five in an attempt to maintain control.

"Honey? What's going on?" Sam sat down on a chair next to the bed.

"Nothing, Dad. I'm fine." Kate gave him a wisp of a smile as she wrestled to mask her inner struggle. His blue eyes examined hers skeptically. She spoke again in an attempt to convince him. Her voice was gravely. "Really. I'm okay, Dad. Just tired."

Sam sighed heavily. He knew she wasn't "okay" but didn't know if it was the flu or Jack's presence. "Here." He draped a clean dish towel over her lap. She straightened out her legs under the covers so he could place the tray in her lap. "I know you're wondering why Jack's here. What's the last thing you remember?"

Kate sucked on her bottom lip, trying to recall. Her eyes skimmed over the broth and pan-crisped bread. "We were on the plane." Images came to mind. The shock of Jack's hand under her sweater while holding a stethoscope beneath her left breast. She narrowed her eyes recalling the awkward moment. And struggling to walk in the terminal. Her legs felt stiff and heavy when she exited the plane with Aaron. "Not much else."

Sam patted her right forearm. "Eat, honey."

She reluctantly picked up the spoon and began to sip broth. It was warm and quenched her parched throat. She waited expectantly for him to begin.

Sam cleared his throat and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. She caught a faint smell of English Leather - the same aftershave he used as long as she could remember. "You were sick with a high fever, Katie. Jack said it was a bad case of the flu. He carried you to the baggage claim when you collapsed. I would've been searching everywhere for you and Aaron if it wasn't for him." He shook his head. "You sure know how to scare a fella. Three to be exact."

His daughter looked pale and small in his eyes. The last time he nursed her through an illness was when she was 4 years-old. A virus and ear infection was running rampant among children in army base housing. He tried coaxing her with her favorite dessert, popsicles, while she was curled up in tiny ball. Her tiny hand was clamped over her ear, deaf to his entreaties while damp ringlets clung to her forehead and neck. He felt helpless as his baby girl stared passively at the frozen treat. Her glassy, green eyes remained fixed as it melted, leaving only a sticky pool of artificially colored liquid behind.

He continued, grateful her fever broke. "Jack's connecting flight was cancelled with the blizzard coming in. All flights were. Aaron begged for him to come back with us, honey. I couldn't leave a man behind, regardless of what's going on with you two. You know that." There was a lull as he looked at his calloused palms, fingers interlaced, then back to his daughter. "You should've seen Aaron's face. I didn't have the heart to tell him no. Jack refused, but I insisted. It was the right thing to do. He's been taking care of you since we came home."

Kate ripped off a piece of bread and dipped it in the broth. A burst of muffled laughter came from the other room. Her eyes lingered on the door before meeting Sam's. He waited patiently for her response, one she wasn't ready to give yet. Her throat was dry and irritated. She sucked the broth from the dampened bread before eating it. "Jack's been taking care of me?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably. His lower back was aching again, but it was more than that. He wasn't sure how his daughter would react. "He's been checking on you regularly, taking your temperature, giving you Tylenol, and keeping cold cloths on your head." He paused long enough for her to take another bite. "And I gave him permission to give you a cold bath. To get your fever down."

Kate began to cough. Remnants of a piece of bread she swallowed lodged in her windpipe. She bent forward while her body tried to dislodge it. Sam hit her back firmly and waited for her to breathe before placing a glass of water into her hand. Kate's face and neck were flushed pink at the thought. "He _what_?"

"It's an old-fashioned remedy. We had to do something, Katie. The blizzard shut down the highways and I wasn't going to…" He sat up straight. Whether she liked it or not, it worked. "He's been a gentleman. Don't think I haven't been watching him, young lady."

Kate nodded slowly, knowing how protective Sam could be even though she was an adult. She wasn't going to argue. Jack knew every inch of her body sans clothes. But talking about it with her father was embarrassing. It made her blush briefly, but was quickly replaced by a more pressing concern. "What about Aaron? Is he doing okay?"

Sam leaned back in the chair, partly in relief Kate moved on to another subject. His eyes softened and the corners of his lips turned up in amusement. "He's been following Jack around like a puppy dog starved for attention. He helped Jack stack firewood. Jack played in the snow with him afterwards." He hesitated, not wanting to tax Kate, especially with her convalescing. "Jack seems like a decent man. He cares about Aaron … About both of you." He drew in a breath before continuing. "I know you two aren't together, but I hope you think about what's best for the boy. A child should be able to see his or her father." Sam's thoughts had turned inwards. When he spoke, there was more emotion than the situation called for. He still bore regret over not trying to get custody of Kate or requesting a permanent assignment in the states. He blamed himself in part for the path her life took before the plane crash. Running from the law three years was bad enough. But thinking she was dead for over three months was a rude wake-up call. Blood or not, she would always be his baby girl. Katie should have been his priority and he failed her.

Sam's assumption of Aaron's paternity caused her to gasp slightly and cough again. Her father waited until the fit passed. "Let's wait until you're done eating, honey." She shook her head in refusal and grabbed the water, gulping down enough to wash away the irritants.

Sam continued on, his voice colored with feeling. "I'm so proud of you, Katie. You're a great woman and mother. You'll make the right decision." Sam looked away a moment, his blue eyes watering. He'd leave it to her, confident she'd do the right thing. She'd do anything for his grandson's well-being. When he felt composed, a fond smile lit up his face. "Aaron's acting like Christmas came early. They've been playing checkers. Jack's really patient with him and has been helping me. He chopped at least two weeks' worth of firewood this morning." He patted her knee. "Finish your supper. A shower and rest will help you feel better. And I don't want you wandering around the cabin until you have your land legs."

She finished in relative silence. It was punctuated by a few comments from Sam, followed by brief responses from her. But her mind was a million miles away. Sam took the tray after leaving towels in the bathroom.

* * *

Kate slid out of bed and opened her suitcase. She grabbed her toiletry bag and a fresh pair of pajamas and turned in a hurry. Her foot caught on the edge of a thick rug her brain didn't register in time, causing her to fall face-first with barely enough time to put her hands up.

Kate was motionless wondering what the hell happened. Her cheek rested against the floor for a few seconds until she heard the footsteps. It sounded like a stampede. _Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!_ She rapped her forehead on the floor a few times in frustration. Kate managed to get on her hands and knees by the time the door swung open. Jack reached her first, followed closely by Sam. Aaron stood in the doorway.

A naked, cold bath she didn't remember and now a face-plant. Her humiliation was now complete.

"Aaron, stay there," Sam said firmly. "We'll take care of your mom."

Jack reached her first and searched her face. Her eyes darted away, her face a deep crimson at being so clumsy. He quickly examined her hands and arms asking if she had pain, his warm brown eyes concerned. Kate's heart rate accelerated. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. He did the same with her ankles until she spoke. "Stop. Please."

Jack froze, his hand on her calf. Her voice softened. "Please, Jack. I tripped. It's nothing." She covered her face while speaking, still mortified.

The pain wasn't physical. She had to get away. Kate was about to bawl and wanted to hide in the shower. She didn't want to break down in front of them, especially Aaron. She had to be strong and didn't notice Sam had ushered Aaron out of the room. A few tears escaped her covered eyes and fell onto the floor.

"Kate…"

She looked up at him, searching his dark, brown eyes, not knowing or trusting how long this would last. Was she still in the throes of a fever? This couldn't be happening. "Jack…" Her voice cracked. Her eyes drank him in piteously. It was too much to hope for. She tried desperately to hold it together.

He was kneeling in front of her, his forehead wrinkled in concern. He sighed and cupped her small shoulders to comfort her. An old, familiar gesture he performed without thinking when she said his name. The emotion in her eyes caused his chest to tighten.

She dropped her head and wiped her face, furious at herself. But his gentle touch was the straw that caused her to snap. The pain wrapped around her heart released a small sob. She covered her mouth to silence it. Her green eyes were a well of sorrow with tired shadows underneath.

"Kate, what's wrong? What do you need?" Jack figured his presence was making her uncomfortable. Did she want him to go? Despite the discomfort between them, he couldn't leave until he knew she was okay.

"I just want to shower." Kate's voice was small, teary voice. Jack would have found her answer endearing, even amusing in another time and place. But there were things left unsaid and too much history between them.

He stood and drew her up with him, his hands under her elbows to helping her stand. They were inches apart. He searched her face, wanting nothing more than to surround her with his arms and press her against his chest.

Instead, they stood at an impasse. It was reminiscent the dozens of missed cues and opportunities in the past, mainly on the island. It was his fault because he was blind to what was most important. Now it was standing here in front of him again. He sighed audibly, certain he was the source of her distress. "Kate, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm leaving when the highway reopens."

His hands fell gently away from her arms. Kate's gaze was transfixed on the rug beneath her feet. She startled when she lifted her head to respond, only to find she was alone in the room.

Kate went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and peeled sweat-ridden pajamas off of her lean body while the water heated. She stepped in when steam began to spread across the edges of the mirror. Her face tipped up towards the spray, allowing the water to course down her body and through her hair.

Tears fell, blending with drops of water and circled quickly down the drain. She wasn't angry he was there. Sam was right to bring him back. And Jack took care of her. _Of course he did. He's a doctor._ She tried to resist burgeoning hope. It threatened to rip open old wounds. She didn't think she'd survive having and losing him again.

Kate knew Jack was weighed down by his demons when he walked out of her house seven years ago. He wasn't willing to talk it out with her. He didn't fight for sobriety or for _them_ to be a couple and family. Did he finally find a reason? Another woman? Her face fell at the thought of Jack with someone else.

If Jack wanted to see Aaron and Aaron wanted to see him, she would allow it. She sat down in the shower and hugged her knees to her chest. It would be a good thing, especially with him sober. So why did she feel so miserable?

* * *

Aaron was bristling with excitement at the prospect of cutting down a real, live Christmas tree. His mom had an artificial, pre-lit tree they assembled the day after Thanksgiving. It was a tradition, decorating it while listening to Christmas carols and wrapping garland and lights around the stairwell bannisters. They usually drank hot cocoa, popped popcorn and watch "Rudolph" on DVD afterwards with only tree lights illuminating the living room.

Nothing had changed over the years except the movie. Aaron loved "Elf," especially the elves' 4 main food groups: Candy, candy corn, candy canes and syrup. He tried to convince his mom to let him try syrup on spaghetti. She finally yielded with a small bowl. Aaron discreetly dumped it into the garbage when she left the room.

Their artificial tree was at home, fully decorated, but dark this year. It only had an ornate tree skirt beneath it.

He watched his grandpa load blankets and a large tooth saw into the back of the Jeep Cherokee. Sam placed a few coils of rope in after with a bowie knife in a sheath.

"Can I hold the knife for you on the way, Grandpa? Please?" It was bigger and better than the knives at the store. "Mom wouldn't let me have one for hunting. It's to kill deer."

Sam turned to face Aaron. Enthusiasm poured off of him. So much he couldn't hold still, his blue eyes fastened on the bowie knife. Sam's pressed his lips together, trying not to squash his grandson's good mood. Over-eager children and sharp tools spelled trouble. "No, Aaron. Your mom was right to not buy one. You need to learn knife safety first." He raised a greying brow at the boy. "And we don't kill animals with knives."

Aaron's face fell slightly. But he knew better than to badger his grandpa. No meant no.

"I might show you how to saw. But you have to be a good listener and do exactly as I tell you." Sam closed the back hatch of the SUV. The motor was running and vehicle windows were defrosted. A few more inches of snow fell overnight but it was powder. It was enough to fill in footprints dotting the front yard. The pure, untouched landscape glistened like millions of minute crystals in the sunlight.

Aaron whooped and threw his arms around Sam's waist, making him grin. He patted his back a few moments before sending him on. "Go on, Scout. Get your Mom. We're loaded up. All we need is passengers."

Aaron turned away and practically skipped through the garage to the kitchen entry door. He took off his boots quickly and ran inside.

* * *

Kate was dressed warmly in layers. A long-sleeved climate tee was underneath her sweater. She also wore thick, fleece leggings. She was still on the mend but wouldn't own up to being tired. Wild horses couldn't drag her away from Aaron's first time getting a real Christmas tree. She could already smell the pine needles.

It evoked a memory of her childhood. Sam would bring a Christmas tree home, dragging it in from the cold. Her mom would fuss, saying it was too tall for the room. Her dad always picked the perfect size and put Kate on his shoulders to position the angel at the top as the finishing touch. A nostalgic smile lit her face as she put on her hat and scarf. She padded into the living room in search of her coat and boots and came across Jack.

Breakfast was more comfortable than she anticipated. The conversation flowed thanks to Aaron's many questions directed at Sam and Jack. She was quiet at times and watched Jack secretly when he wasn't looking. He seemed so … normal. There were quiet moments, slight lulls when she and Jack would make eye contact. Each time, something was quietly exchanged between them. Questions. Curiosity. So many unsaid things. She caught a hint of remorse from him. He was across the oak table, but felt far away. Out of reach in the presence of her family. As if the damn glass wall at Hydra Station was between them again with cameras monitoring every word and gesture.

He turned, sensing her presence. She picked up her boots and sat in a chair while he watched her, tying his laces without looking. She returned the pleasant smile spreading across Jack's face and thought she should say something to dissipate any discomfort on his part.

"Jack, I…"

"Kate, I…"

They both laughed briefly. She paused to give him her full attention. He gestured for her to talk but she shook her head. "Go on."

"Kate, this wasn't planned. I hope you aren't uncomfortable with me … with my being here. I'll leave when the roads are clear." His voice was sincere but throat constricted tightly. He hadn't felt this relaxed and a part of something, hell, _anything_ , for a long time. The prospect of an empty condo and continuing his Friday night routine soon wasn't appealing.

For once, he didn't have the compulsion do fly over the Pacific. It was never fulfilling, just something he did over and over. A hollow goal to help him make it through another week. Fly. Hope the plane crashes. Hit the airport bar after arrival. Toss back a few drinks until his return flight boarded. Fly. Hope the plane crashes. And arrive back in LAX to drink more to numb his pain and emptiness.

She sobered slight. "Oh." Her voice was small at first. "Thank you for everything. For helping Aaron and me. He loves having you here." She blushed slightly, but continued. "And for the bath." She unzipped a boot and pulled it on while giving him a side-glance. "Dad said you had your hands full." She tried to inject humor, despite an undercurrent tugging at her. It bothered her when he said he was leaving. She bit her lip bottom lip and reached for the second boot.

Jack studied her while trying not to stare. She was still pale but beautiful. She wore a knit, cream hat with a fuzzy ball on top and sides that had elongated flaps to cover her ears. A far cry from island wear. Or California, except on rainy, winter days.

He suddenly wished he had taken Kate and Aaron to the family cabin in Lake Tahoe. What the hell was he waiting for back then? He closed his eyes and rubbed his lids with his thumb and forefinger, trying to focus on what she said. The bath. He looked over, his eyes glinting mischievously. "I was afraid Sam was going to shoot me. You thought I was drowning you and fought like hell."

A deep chuckle erupted unexpectedly from Kate. She started laughing, then couldn't stop. Jack joined her. It struck her as funny. "I'd say sorry but…" She shrugged and continued to laugh until tears began to form at the corners of her eyes.

He laughed with her. She gave him a heck of a time, a bruised temple and doused him with cold water in the process. But she wouldn't be Kate if she went along quietly. She and Jack both looked at each other, the tension dissipating. Both took in a deep breath simultaneously.

"Mom! Jack! Grandpa said it's time to go." Aaron came flying in. He paused a moment, noting the mirrored grins on Jack and Kate's faces. "What are you laughing about?"

Kate wiped her eyes quickly and secured second boot. "Nothing, Goober. I guess I wasn't myself when I was sick, huh?"

Jack stood quickly and grabbed her coat off the wall rack, sparing her the walk. He handed it over to Kate, who rewarded him with an appreciative glance.

"No, you weren't." Aaron agreed. "You were talking about Mars and smoke monsters. It was kind of scary. Jack said it was the fever."

Kate's eyes grew round and darted to Jack's. _Did I say anything else about the island?_ Jack shook his head slightly, as if to answer her. His face was reassuring. He took care of it. She gave an almost imperceptible nod in relief.

"He's right. Fevers can make people have strange dreams." Kate tugged on Aaron's hat, which had listed sideways. "Let's go before Grandpa comes after us. He'll think we got lost on the way out." She winked at her son and felt Jack gently take her coat, hold it for her to put on. She stuck her arms in the sleeves and paused before pulling her long, spiral curls out of the collar. "Thanks," she murmured, not knowing Jack barely stopped himself in time from doing the same thing - freeing her silky, brown curls from the coat. He blinked hard and shook his head slightly before following them out into the blinding sunlight.

* * *

Sam drove to a nearby lake. It was at the edge of his property, but he had to circle around with the Jeep on the small road to haul it back. Otherwise, it would be an uphill battle. Aaron clambered out, whooping as soon as the SUV stopped. He flopped back-first into a mound of deep snow and made a snow angel. His cheeks were bright pink and eyes a vivid blue. Kate snapped a few pictures of him with her phone, grateful it had a good camera.

Sam and Jack walked around the trees and discussed size and merit. Kate gazed at the pines surrounding them, the frozen lake in the distance and mountains. Some towered over them. They encircled the water like silent sentinels. The cold air was clean and invigorating, opening her senses. She spotted some deer tracks weaving through the trees. They were moving in small groups.

"Kate! Over here!" Sam called out to his daughter. She followed in their footsteps which cut through the snow to keep it from cresting over and into her boots. Sam and Jack stood by one tree in particular. Aaron was holding Jack's hand and beaming.

Kate closed in and craned her neck to look up. Sam smiled at his petite daughter's skeptical expression. It reminded him slightly of Diane. "Are you sure it will fit in the cabin?"

Sam stifled a grin. "The living room is 15 feet high at the apex, Peanut. We have plenty of room. This one will be close to 8 feet when cut. If you approve." Kate rubbed her gloved hands together to keep warm while circling the tree. She inspected it for gaps, bare spots, sagging or brown branches, an indicator of disease. This one was full and robust. She smothered her smile at three sets of footprints that obviously circled the tree before she did. The sight of it amused her.

Sam's asking her opinion was a courtesy and attempt to keep her involved. He always knew which one to pick. "It looks good, Dad." She felt small arms encircle her waist.

"Grandpa said he'll give it a good shake before cutting it down. To make sure there's no birds or small animals, like Chip and Dale." Aaron grinned at her before chasing after the men. He jumped with both feet together in Jack's large footprints. She pulled out her phone and secretly took another picture.

Kate sat on the Jeep bumper, watching while her dad and Jack worked in unison clearing lower branches before using the handsaw. It had an auxiliary handle. Only one person could use it. Her father let Aaron squat in front of him as he guided him in sawing, same as he did with Kate when she was little. Aaron gave up after a several tries but appeared satisfied. He made a snowball and threw it at a nearby tree while standing a safe distance from Sam, Jack and their soon-to-be Christmas tree. The tree fell slowly into the soft embrace of a bank of snow. Aaron clapped his gloves at the spectacle.

Kate found herself watching Jack again. He wore the rugged look well. He had shaved again and was wearing flannel under his coat. Combined with the jeans and work boots, his entire appearance made her flush and want more. She still dreamt about him. Sometimes she would wake in tears. Other time, she resented the intrusion of the real world, wanting only to slip back into the dream and nestle in his arms again. To wake and see the bed filled by his tall, muscular body while she soaked up the warmth of his bare skin against hers.

The brisk, mountain air brought color to Jack's face. His hair was flecked with gray around his temples under the hat; a distinctive look. She was lost in thought as they labored on without her help. Her father and Jack both insisted that she rest.

Sam held green, mesh netting the tree would slip into like a sock. It would secure the branches for transport. "You got it?" He was impressed with Jack's willingness to jump in and help, no questions asked. He kept his thoughts to himself but sensed something passing between him and his daughter over breakfast. Kate's spirits seemed livelier and Aaron lit up like a lightning bug when Jack was around.

"Yes, sir." Jack held the trunk of the tree and dragged it through the opening. Sam tugged on the net, unrolling it as Jack walked forward dragging it through until the top was covered. Sam stood up and pulled filament rope out of his pocket to tie off both ends. He rubbed back absentmindedly.

Jack noticed the gesture. He didn't want to overstep boundaries, but the physician part of him spurred on the inquiry.

"How's your back? It looked like it was bothering you yesterday." Jack grabbed and lifted the bottom of the tree, intent on bearing most of the weight.

"Old age, son. My warranty's must have expired," Sam quipped. "You're a spinal surgeon. You know how it is."

Jack laughed with Sam politely. He _was_ a spinal surgeon. He nodded slowly. "Yes. I do." His tone turned serious. "Let me know if I can do anything for you." He couldn't do much but meant it. Even if it was referring him to a good doctor. It wasn't as if Jack could treat him. His face fell for a fraction of a second. Technically, he couldn't treat him if he was his father-in-law. But the point was moot. He screwed that one up, same as his license to practice.

Jack scalp tingled. He had the distinct feeling Kate was watching him. He turned to see she was daydreaming, her green eyes unfocused but trained on him. He smiled warmly, his dimples flashing, before dragging the tree towards her. It slid easily in the snow.

"Let me get the other end." Sam insisted.

"I have it." Jack didn't want Sam to strain his back. "I could use the exercise."

Sam stopped and watched as Jack make a bee-line for his daughter. He gathered his tools and followed. He and Jack made quick work of securing the tree to the top of the SUV while Kate leaned against another one nearby, her thoughts elsewhere.

Sam clapped Jack's shoulder in approval. "I'll make a mountain man out of you yet, Jack," he declared, ignoring the roads would likely be passable by the next day. He informed Jack over coffee before Aaron woke up, knowing the boy would protest.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. It was quiet. Too quiet. He instinctively scanned the area for his grandson who was normally on Jack's heels. "Aaron?" he called out. There was no answer. Jack and Kate turned his way with a single question on their faces. Where did he go?

Aaron enjoyed sawing but it was rough and difficult. His short arms tired quickly. At first, he was sure he could take down the tree by himself, but it was hard to pull the saw in one direction. Grandpa Sam made it look easy. He was satisfied with letting him finish. He threw a few snowballs before wandering away, making tracks towards the sunlight where it was warmer. The taller pines cast large shadows, making it feel like he was standing in a freezer.

He spotted something moving above the snow. It was fuzzy and had long ears. Beyond it was the lake surrounded by trees. He envisioned himself skating across it, like Bambi and Thumper. He quietly approached the furry animal before it hopped, then hopped again towards the ice. It was a rabbit.

 _It's probably foraging._ Aaron learned about it in school. Some animals, like bears, hibernated but others braved the cold and foraged in winter months. He had a packet of peanuts in his coat pocket from the airplane and pulled it out. He removed his gloves and set them down to rip the package open. He was sure it would like peanuts.

"Here, rabbit," he whispered. It stopped and turned, it's profile to Aaron. He was four yards away. The bunny twitched its nose before its ears shot up. It hopped again, but not quickly. Aaron tossed a few peanuts but it wasn't far enough. He looked around. He could barely see Jack or Sam through the pine branches. His mom was out of sight. Aaron turned and followed it, soundlessly stepping onto the ice. The large grey and white rabbit made one slow hop after another across the frozen lake. Aaron scattered a few more peanuts ahead of it after popping a few in his mouth, not noticing the hairline cracks silently forming under his feet on the cloudy, snow-covered surface.

He thought he heard his name but was closing in on the animal. Just a few more steps…

Jack lowered the tree and looked around. Kate's heart picked up speed. Maybe he wandered off. But Aaron was nowhere in sight. It wasn't like him to stray too far. "Aaron!" She called out, a tremor in her voice.

"Jack!" He saw the building panic in her eyes and hoped it was for nothing; that Aaron was making a snowball pile or fort. But a gut feeling told him something was wrong. He went back to where he saw Aaron last. Kate was on his heels but short of breath. "Where is he?" All three adults surveyed the area.

Sam picked his trail. "Don't worry, honey. We'll find him. Looks like he went this way." They followed Sam through a small grove of trees and came across Aaron's gloves at the edge of the frozen lake. Nearing the center was Aaron, bending over slightly while focused on a large hare in front of him.

Kate snatched up his gloves and held them to her chest. "Aaron!" She called out and lunged to follow him but was stopped by Sam. "Katie, no." He shook his head, his eyes tracing Aaron's tracks and the exposed ice. He knew it might not hold an adult's weight. Katie's maybe, but he wasn't going to send his her out. She was still recovering. He'd go himself if he had to. He looked at Jack. "We have to get him quick." He unfastened a long coil of rope from an industrial carbine clip on his belt.

Sam stepped to the edge and called out in a calm voice. "Aaron. I need you to walk back slowly, Scout. You understand me? Slow. No running."

Aaron froze and swiveled, unaware he had an audience. He heard the rabbit scamper away and bound up on the opposite bank, leaving him alone in the middle. He squinted in the sunlight and shaded his eyes to see better. Mom, Jack and Grandpa were waiting for him. He nodded and took one step, then the next towards them. The ice was a little slippery, but his boots had good traction. Sam kept scanning the surface looking for clear ice to direct Aaron too - a sign it was frozen solid - but was met only with the milky, snow-covered surface. "That's right, Scout." He coaxed Aaron encouragingly. "Keep walking. You're doing great." He could feel tension radiating off his daughter, who stood next to him.

Aaron gave him a thumbs up and kept moving forward. He couldn't wait to tell Jack about the rabbit. He waved at Jack and his mom before taking another step, not noticing a chunk of ice jutting up from the surface. He tripped, falling on his hands and knees.

A large, cracking noise erupted around his body. The sound bounced off the trees and echoed across the lake. He looked at the ice beneath his hands as it split into dozens of pieces. Within seconds, he plunged head-first into a freezing, slushy abyss.


	6. The Void

_Aaron gave him a thumbs up and kept moving forward. He couldn't wait to tell Jack about the rabbit. He waved at Jack and his mom and took another step, not noticing a chunk of ice jutting up from the surface. He tripped, landing on his hands and knees._

 _A large, cracking noise erupted around his body. The sound echoed loudly around him. He looked at the ice beneath his hands as it split into dozens of pieces within seconds, plunging him head-first into a freezing, slushy abyss._

* * *

"No!" The word came out with an expulsion of breath. Horror coursed through Kate's body. The cracking ice sounded off like a gunshot signaling the beginning of a race. Kate launched forward like a runner from the starting block. She had only one thought, one purpose: to save her son.

Sam had been assessing the situation and potential outcomes since the second he spotted his grandson on the precarious surface. He stripped a larch branch dangling in a nearby tree. By the time Aaron fell through, Sam was at the ice's edge. His calloused fingers fastened a constrictor knot to the end of the long stick before throwing it with precision. It landed just beyond the break in the ice. His skilled hands drew it over the gap to span both sides. It was a bar - a lifeline to pull Aaron out. Unfortunately, Aaron was facing the other way.

Sam was calm on the surface, but his stomach churned. He compartmentalized his fear despite it being his grandson. His military career was spent moving up the ranks of the Army Rangers Regiment, an elite combat division of United States Army Special Operations Command. When his unit executed covert missions, there was no room for panic. Panic led to mistakes. Deadly mistakes.

He shouted to get Aaron's attention, one hand on the rope, the other dialing 911 on his cell phone. Sam paused to quickly to relay what happened to the operator and provide directions to their off-road location.

Jack was standing behind Kate when she took off. There was hardly a sound when she lunged forward. Only her body slicing through the air and the friction of sleeves against her coat as her arms pumped furiously. He was on her heels by the time she reached the ice.

Kate found herself snatched up from behind and arms pinned to her sides. Jack embraced her with a vice-like grip. She thrashed and kicked while trying to get away. She had turned into wrathful mother bear ready claw _anything_ between her and her cub. "Goddammit, Jack! Put me down! AARON!"

Sam observed the scuffle but didn't intervene. Instead, he moved a few steps left for higher ground to better see Aaron. "Come on, Scout! The stick! Reach up and I'll pull you out!" Aaron's head bobbed as he thrashed, his small hands searching for something to hold on to.

He wasn't aware salvation was behind him in the form of a wood branch.

"Help me, Mom! Help!" Aaron cried out, distress apparent in his voice.

It only made Kate harder to hold.

"AARON! SWIM, BABY!" Kate clenched her teeth. "Get off me, dammit! Let me go!" Kate threw her head back her head after landing a few kicks on his legs. Jack's face turned away in the nick of time to avoid being head-butted.

The clock was ticking.

Jack set her down and spun her around to face him. He drew her in close, his grip firm as she strained to pull away. "No, Kate! It has to be me!" Jack gave her a slight shake. His eyes bled with fear and resolve. They mirrored hers.

"The ice won't hold us both." He pressed his lips together, his forehead wrinkled. His eyes bore into hers, imploring. _You have to let me do this._

Kate teetered between fighting or letting him go.

Jack always knew she was fierce and independent. It was in Kate's nature to protect people she cared about. Even if it meant putting her life on the line. He found the latter both infuriating and terrifying.

But this was different.

A rescuer could drown if pulled under by a frantic victim. Kate's strength was already compromised by the flu, making her short of breath. Her skin was unusually pale making the dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks stand out. He wasn't going to let another person drown on his watch. _Especially_ not Aaron or Kate.

Sam eyes darted back to the pair just in time to exchange a significant look with Jack. It spurred the older man to step close. Jack released Kate, his hands replaced by one of Sam's.

Jack pivoted and ran across the glacial surface. After a few strides, he stopped, dropped to his stomach and did the army crawl in double-time while spreading out his weight. Every muscle, every fiber of his being was fixated on saving Aaron, the boy who believed in him despite his neglect. A son who wanted to follow in his footsteps: _"You fix people and I want to be like you."_

"AARON! SWIM, BABY!" Kate's panic surged. She forced into the role of bystander and found it worse than being in jail or a cage. Emotions began to trample any logic. There was a scar inside of her barely covering the void Jack left when he exited her life - one that Aaron helped heal. It was starting to shred.

Kate tried to escape again by jerking hard against Sam's iron grip. She knew she had a chance of breaking his grip by pulling hardest where his thumb and fingers overlapped. She _had_ to do something. Aaron was the center of her world.

"Katherine Anne! Stop it!" Sam commanded sharply.

He _never_ yelled at his daughter. The shock of it, coupled with her full given name, made her take pause. Kate stopped fighting but her body trembled with anxiety and adrenaline.

The sun peered out from behind the clouds causing both to go snow blind. They squinted as the vista sparkled with millions of miniature ice crystals.

Sam kept calling out encouragement to Aaron, telling him to reach back for the stick. Jack's body blocked his view of the rift, but Sam had the advantage of height.

What he saw made his heart hammer.

He had to distract his daughter.

"Get the Jeep, Katie! Back it up and crank up the heater!"

Kate was rooted to the spot, a stark contrast to before. "I can't see him. Aaron?!" Inside, she lashed herself. _I didn't keep track of him. It's all my fault._ Kate was leery about flying with Aaron, worried the damn island would somehow suck them back in no matter where they were. But the real danger wasn't in the Pacific Ocean. It was an ice-covered lake nestled in the Canadian Rocky Mountains.

"Katie! NOW!" Sam gave her the keys and a firm shove. "Go! That's an order!" She reluctantly dashed towards the jeep. Her thoughts were racing.

 _What if… What if…_

She fumbled, hands trembling, as she tried to insert the ignition key. After a few attempts she managed to insert it, fire up the jeep's engine and put it in reverse.

* * *

Jack spent time in Lake Tahoe at his family vacation home when growing up. It was a haven for skiing and winter play. Alternately, it was a paradise for outdoor activities in warmer weather. Jack loved water-based activities. Fishing, rafting and swimming in the Truckee River. Boating on the lake. He also enjoyed ice skating on the vast body of water. As a result, water and ice safety were drilled into him at a young age. Christian Shephard's high expectations went beyond academics. He didn't want Jack to indulge in foolish or reckless behavior.

A lecture was delivered about the danger of ice when a man drowned in the lake. The victim was walking his dogs on the frozen surface along the south shore. One of the dogs fell through, then the man as he tried to rescue it.

Jack was 8 years-old.

He and his friend, Marc Silverman, sat on a couch in the living room trying hard not to fidget. Logs crackled in the large fireplace beside them and the smell of pancakes and bacon beckoned that morning. Christian paced back and forth while delivering a speech about safety and what to do if it _ever_ happened to them. _Again._

He fixed Jack with a stern look. "Don't try to be a hero if someone else falls through, Jack." He paused to tap the front page of the Tahoe Daily Tribune for emphasis. The article about the drowning was displayed on the coffee table solely for their benefit. " _This man_ died because he made a bad choice. I expect better from _you_." Jack's cheeks flushed from embarrassment, but he didn't drop his gaze. As for Marc, he was used to hearing Dr. Shephard berate and give speeches to Jack.

It was one of countless lessons Christian doled out to his son over the course of a few decades. Little did Christian know, this one would aid Jack in an attempt to save his own grandson.

It was the right choice. _His_ choice.

* * *

Jack tried to estimate the time Aaron had been in the water. Maybe two minutes at most. The countdown clock started the moment Aaron fell through.

180 seconds.

The estimated amount time it took arteries and veins in the limbs to compress in freezing water. The body would force blood into the organs to survive. It was roughly how long Aaron had before losing the ability to swim.

"Hold on, Aaron! I'm coming!" He called out to reassure him. "Keep swimming, buddy!" He couldn't see him, blinded by a burst of sunlight on the bright surface. Aaron didn't answer. Lake water, reflecting ribbons of gold light, rose and fell from Aaron's attempts to stay afloat.

By the time Jack reached the opening, there was only one thing to greet him ... A knit hat undulating in the rippling water.

Aaron was gone.

Jack plunged his arms into the bone-chilling water searching wildly for his nephew. "NO! Come on, Aaron! Where are you?! WHERE ARE YOU?!" He shouted at the water as if it would deliver the boy up.

"Jack?!" Sam's chest was tight. His mind saw Jack's next move. He had to tell him…

Jack took a microsecond to glance back, intent on seeing Kate's face _one last time_. But she wasn't there. His countenance fell before hardening with determination. Without hesitation, Jack dove into the lake's frigid embrace.

The words were stuck on Sam's lips when Jack disappeared. He was going to tell him to take the stick, still spanning the hole. It would lead him back. Two tugs as the signal and Sam could pull them both to safety.

But it was too late.

He exhaled a prayer instead.

The cold air turned his whispered words into a visible, white mist.

It rose before dissipating, as if traveling to another realm.

* * *

The jeep's tires made a loud, crunching noise before stopping. The engine continued to roar as the driver's door opened and shut. Kate ran to Sam's side, shading her eyes as she scanned the landscape. Dread began to claw at her throat and insides. They were gone.

"Where's Jack? Where's Aaron?"

"Where are they?!" Kate grabbed Sam's sleeve, her voice distressed and forlorn. Her small hand spanned half his bicep.

Sam's sky blue eyes told what she already knew.

Kate broke down and sobbed. "I can't lose _him_. I can't lose _them_! I can't…!"

Sam drew her close with one arm to comfort her. He also knew she was a flight risk. The odds had more than doubled she would run straight into danger to save them. He had to keep her onshore.

Sam had seen this before.

He squeezed Kate, his voice steady in an attempt to anchor her. "Jack will find him, honey. He's going to bring our boy back. You just have to believe."

* * *

Sam Austen was 15 years-old. It was like any other school day in Iowa with brisk, wintry weather. He was walking home, his scarf flapping in the cool wind as he contemplated his chores, homework, and the buzz around school that John Lennon and Yoko Ono were having a "bed-in," whatever the heck that was. The sun was out for the first time in a week and had just begun melting tall piles of dirty snow adjacent to the road.

There was a sizeable pond behind a neighboring farmhouse. Sam had just walked past when he heard cries for help. The 8-year-old boy who lived there, Donnie, had fallen through ice too brittle to support his weight. The boy was full of mischief and a cute kid. Sam was friends with his older brother, Steven, but he was still at school for basketball practice. The eldest boy, Kelvin, had signed up for the army and been deployed to Vietnam.

Sam dropped his book bag and raced to save the boy. He ended up crashing through the ice, but that didn't stop him. He plowed ahead and dove under, groping blindly to find him.

Finally, his fingers grazed the back of a limp hand.

In that instant, a rescuer snagged Sam around the waist. He fought the larger man and protested as he was brought to shore.

He _almost_ had him.

Donnie Inman drowned.

* * *

Aaron gasped when immersed in freezing water - a natural reaction. It was also the worst thing he could do. He choked and coughed after inhaling frigid water. His head and face barely crested the water's surface and parka was puffed up with trapped air, obscuring his vision.

Water arced in all directions as he flailed. It created a fluctuating, liquid wall. Aaron's arms beat furiously while his bare hands searched for something, _anything_ to hold on to.

Arctic chill ripped through him. Irregular, loose chunks of ice kept coming at his face, only to be pushed away. When he finally found the edge, Aaron clasped it tightly, unable to pull himself out. It shattered from his weight and set Aaron adrift. He kicked hard in an attempt to tread, but the snow boots turned his feet into ineffective bricks.

Grandpa Sam kept shouting to him. The water in his ears and his own cries for help muted most of the words. But one voice cut through the chaos. His brain had patterned after it during infancy. It belonged to the one constant in his life - his mother.

"AARON! SWIM, BABY!"

 _Mom!_ It made him fight harder. "Mom! Help me! MOM!" Yelling robbed his lungs of precious air. Thoughts became harder to formulate as his body shivered violently. Aaron had never been so cold in his life.

The pocket of air in his coat initially gave him some buoyancy. It disappeared as the lining was saturated. By then, his limbs felt sluggish and numb. They became clumsy and refused to cooperate. Aaron started to sink, his blue eyes round with panic.

As he dropped beneath the surface, he stared up through the green-tinged water. The hole above looked like a monster's mouth sporting sharp, uneven teeth. Air bubbles escaped his mouth and nose rapidly until nothing was left. He drew cold water into his lungs. His body jerked, trying to reject it, but had no ability to fight. Movements slowed down, then stopped with his eyelids half-shut.

A flash of white registered in his brain. The bunny?

Then, a familiar voice spoke faintly in his head. _Hang in there, kiddo!_

Aaron didn't react.

His brain began to flip through images, some new and others old, dredged up from years ago. Mommy rocking him to sleep. Sitting on Jack's shoulders during the Disneyland parade, his small arms wrapped around Jack's neck. Grandpa helping him set up his first big boy train set. A storybook. A whale. Memories faded as his conscious sputtered before completely shutting down.

* * *

Jack descended past the layer of slurry and ice. Sunbeams penetrated the clear, green water for only a few yards. There was no detectable water current. Aaron couldn't have gotten far.

He dropped deeper into the abyss, his arms stretched wide while panning back and forth. Reaching. Feeling. Legs movements were careful in case he made contact. His body and lungs screamed for him to surface, but there was no way in hell. He would do anything, _anything_ to save Aaron.

Claire's son.

Kate's son.

His nephew.

His son.

The boy who yearned to spend time with him; who threw his arms around him without hesitation. His big, blue eyes, identical to Claire's, stared up at him with undeserved adoration.

 _Where are you, Aaron?_

He wasn't coming back without him.

Last time, there was no body to bury. It was 6 days after Oceanic 815 crashed. He had just rescued Boone and left him with Kate and Charlie. He went back instantly to save the woman who was much farther out. She had been caught in the riptide. 6 days on the island as doctor and leader, yet he still didn't know her name.

Joanna Miller.

He failed her.

It wasn't going to happen again.

Something below caught his eye. Light where none existed. It flashed like a mirror before disappearing. He immediately rocketed downwards. Jack's fingertips touched fabric – a coat. His hand grabbed and pulled it up. He could only see the child's silhouette in the dim light. Aaron was suspended in the water, his arms extended in a pose reminiscent of Frankenstein.

Jack pressed Aaron's back into his chest and sped upwards. He wasn't sure if he would make it. The last of his air had just escaped his lungs. Jack searched frantically, hoping to find the opening. Hoping he wouldn't have to smash through the ice with one hand.

Someone or something must have been smiled down on him. The exit lit up like a beacon. Sunbeams shot through the darkness and turned the hole's jagged edges into a ring of glowing, translucent crystal.

Jack surfaced in a burst and gasped. Aaron's head lolled forward. Jack settled it back on his shoulder while treading. His fingers tapping Aaron's neck in search of a pulse. He couldn't find it and there was no rise and fall of Aaron's ribcage.

Jack heaved and lifted the small, lifeless body onto the ice before pushing Aaron away. He was afraid the surface would buckled if he climbed out beside him. Jack pulled himself out using the branch as a bar and crawled over to Aaron.

"Jack!" Kate was relieved to see them until she saw Aaron wasn't moving. _No!_ "Why isn't he moving?!"

Jack couldn't answer her. He checked for a pulse again before tipping the boy's head back. He pinched Aaron's nose and gave him two breaths. Nothing.

"Come on, Aaron!" He couldn't lose him. He _had_ to save him. Jack was focused Aaron, but not oblivious. Hairline cracks began to spider out beneath them. They had to move … _now!_

"Jack! Grab the branch!" Sam held the rope tightly and braced himself.

Jack grabbed it with his right hand and wrapped his left arm around Aaron. Kate quickly grabbed the rope behind Sam. They dragged the pair back to shore quickly. "Katie ... blankets!" Sam barked. He stepped forward to help Jack.

Kate could barely tear herself away. She was back in a flash, stumbling and struggling to catch her breath.

Jack scooped up Aaron, keeping him flat. He tried to walk ashore, but his knees buckled and hit the snow-covered ground. He was drenched and shaking involuntarily but ignored it. Sam grabbed him by his elbow and helped him stand. He knew from Jack's expression he wouldn't relinquish Aaron. Sam's grandson was motionless, his arms and legs as limp as a rag doll. The boy's skin was waxen and blonde locks plastered to his head. He didn't look real.

Kate dropped the blankets, shocked at his appearance.

"Jack! Aaron!" Kate was by his side, touching her son's face. "Aaron?! Wake up, baby! Please!"

"I need a blanket! Did you call 911?" Jack laid Aaron on the ground as soon as Sam unfurled it on top of trampled snow.

"Yeah. They're coming from up Banff. Anytime now." Sam's voice was steady but a slight tremor in it betrayed him. "Need anything else?"

Jack shook his head slightly.

"What's wrong, baby? Wake up!" Kate's eyes burned and cheeks were chilled from crying.

Jack tipped his chin up and listened for breathing while watching Aaron's small chest. There was none. He pinched the small nose again, gave him two rescue breaths and began rapid compressions. Sam draped a heavy blanket over Jack's shoulders without Jack noticing and piled more over Aaron from the waist down.

Kate held Aaron's hand. "Wake up, baby! Wake up!" A sob rose, causing her throat to constrict. She was there the day Aaron took his first breath. This couldn't be his last. "Wake up for mommy!"

Jack was shaken, same as Kate, but it didn't stop him. His voice was sharp but held no rancor. "Put his hand down, Kate! Don't pat his arms or legs. Keep them flat. If the blood leaves his heart too soon…" He stopped himself from saying it out loud. Something he wasn't going to let happen: heart failure from the blood traveling to the limbs too fast. His own heart ached as he looked down at Aaron's purple lips.

"Come on, Aaron … Come on." His words came out forcefully in time with the compressions.

"I need you, kiddo! Come on!" Jack continued compressions before another two breaths. The blanket on his back began to slip.

Regret and love strengthened his resolve to save him. "I will _never_ leave you again, Aaron, e _ver!_ Come on, buddy."

By the fourth round of CPR, Kate went from softly pleas to begging, the pain-filled words coming up from a place deep inside. "Please, baby! Please!" Her hand rested on top of his while she stared down at his white skin. All color had been leached from it. She wiped her face and nose on her coat sleeve as she broke down again, unable to speak.

Sam knelt beside her, his arm around her shoulder. It was out of his hands.

Jack's face spoke volumes. Desperation dotted his features. He wished it was him, not Aaron.

He hated himself for leaving 7 years ago.

For drinking and taking pills instead of getting help.

For obsessing over the island, thinking it was his destiny when everything he needed was right in front of him.

He ruined it.

Jack figured Kate would move on and Aaron would have a step-dad by now. But here they all were. _It's my fault._ They could have been been in Tahoe or L.A. this year with Sam instead. As a family.

He recalled Aaron's sad face, his blue eyes filled with pain and longing after telling the Canada Air flight attendant, "He is … um … was my dad." _Was_ his dad.

Tears fell and disappeared into the fabric of Aaron's soaked clothes. Jack's trained hands didn't miss a beat, despite the weight of guilt and sorrow. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Kate watched through bleary eyes as Jack's face crumpled. It was followed by an outburst. To who or what, she didn't know.

"It should have me been me! Not him! Me!" The heel of his large palms, one stacked over the other, didn't break rhythm. "Please!" He begged through his own tears. He tipped back his head and shouted. "I'll do anything!"

Birds scattered as his voice bounced off the trees.

Sirens sounded off in the distance.

Suddenly, a geyser of water erupted from Aaron's mouth. Jack's heart leapt as he tipped Aaron onto his side. Aaron gagged and vomited more water as his lungs battled to expel liquid and draw in oxygen at the same time. "It's okay, Aaron." He rubbed Aaron's back gently as relief washed over him.

Kate bawled openly, one hand on Aaron's head and the other on Jack's shoulder creating a bridge over the boy's body. Brown eyes met green with teary smiles. For a brief moment, only Jack, Kate and Aaron existed. A shared memory surfaced within their bubble, blocking out all noise. 10 years ago they cradled another blonde head, jointly baptizing him with the same tears.

Aaron's fair eyelashes were clumped together with water and his eyes were glazed as if half-asleep. Jack set him gently on his back again. The boy didn't talk or move but his chest rose and fell steadily. His pulse was steady but slow. Jack piled blankets on top of him with Kate including the one that fell off his shoulders.

He thanked his lucky stars they weren't on the island with no oxygen, medical tools or supplies. That he didn't have to monitor Aaron by torchlight, hoping to god he would last until morning. That there wouldn't be another grave on Boone's Hill.

But Aaron wasn't out of the woods yet.

"Aaron, baby." Kate's fingers roamed through his hair, unable to stop touching him. "What's wrong with him, Jack? Why isn't he talking?" Kate voice was hoarse and tormented. Her pain was his. Always had been. Always would be.

The sirens stopped. Heavy doors opened and shut. Large boots cut through the snow, making loud, crunching noises while running towards them.

Jack glanced up. Sam had moved away to direct the emergency rescuers.

There wasn't much time to explain.

"His body needs to warm up. It's going to take a while." His leg muscles coiled, ready to stand before seeing something that made him stop. Kate hovered over Aaron, her heart-shaped face tipped up towards his. He had _never_ seen her this frightened.

"It's going to be okay, Kate." His words were gentle, meant only for her ears. He hoped for a full recovery and wasn't going to tell her anything otherwise. Not yet. She searched his eyes and nodded, wanting to believe.

Jack's reached out and cupped her jawline. He smiled faintly as his thumb brushed her cheek. He wiped away a few tears before withdrawing.

Before he stood, she caught something unexpected in his eyes … How much he still cared.

Jack shivered while conveying his credentials and critical information to the EMTs. At the same time, two men and woman quickly strapped Aaron to a backboard, placed him on the emergency cot and raced towards the ambulance.

Kate's legs were wobbly when she stood. Jack noticed her unsteady gait and grabbed her hand firmly as they jogged behind the stretcher. An EMT helped her into the ambulance to ride along and strapped her into a seat at the head of the cot.

She looked back to Sam, who waved her on. He caught a glimpse of Jack being draped with another blanket while the EMTs worked feverishly on Aaron, The doors closed quickly and ambulance sped away.

Sam wiped his eyes and cleared his throat a few times before climbing into his jeep to follow them. He thanked the heavens for putting Jack Shephard on two airplane flights: Oceanic 815 and Canadian Air destined for Calgary.

It only affirmed his belief that there was no coincidence.

It was all meant to be.

 ** _To be continued..._**


End file.
